And If I Ever Lost You

Dixie smiled as she came awake, cuddling into his embrace and returning his kiss.  “Good morning,” she happily murmured.

“Morning, Love,” he answered, a bit absentmindedly.

“Well, you’re certainly far away!” she laughed.  “And on a day off, no less!”  Still smiling . . . . . . . . can’t help lovin’ that man of mine . . . . . . . . she moved to give him another kiss, but he rolled over onto his back, repining.  “What’s wrong?” she asked, propping herself up on her elbow and looking at him with concern.  He didn’t answer; she leaned over, her hand resting on his chest as she moved to look into his face.  “Kell?”

He sighed, preoccupied with what he knew was to come. 

“Kell, what’s wrong?” she asked, apprehension filling her eyes.

Abruptly he sat up, ignoring the question as he pushed back the covers and got up.  Pulling on a pair of jeans, he said, “Let’s have some coffee.”

“OK . . . . . . . . sure.  I’ll go make it,” Dixie replied, mystified and worried.  She slipped into her robe and headed for the kitchen.

A short time later Kell, having looked in on the still-sleeping children, came and sat at the breakfast table as Dixie poured the coffee.  Sitting down next to him, she ignored the cup of hot liquid as she reached over to touch his arm.  “Kell?” she queried once more, uneasy and upset, “What’s wrong?”

Unable to keep the sadness out of his eyes, he looked over at her, wishing this conversation could somehow bypass them.  But he knew better and he struggled to find exactly the right words.  He already realized how unequivocally hard this was going to be for her, and he certainly didn’t want to make it any worse by thoughtlessly saying the wrong thing.  Still, it had to be done, and he knew it needed to be done now.  He turned and took hold of her hands as he looked into her eyes.  “Dix,” he said gently.  “Love, we have to . . . . . . . . we need to find out . . . . . . . . we’ve got to know . . . . . . . . about Kelsie.”

Her beautiful blue eyes swam in tears.  Deep in her heart she knew he was right, and as their days with the twins had passed, she admitted to herself that she had known this day would eventually come.  But she wasn’t ready for it to be here yet.  Chances are . . . . . .. “She’ll be just fine . . . . . . . .” she protested weakly, and, not wanting to continue the discussion, she turned aside as she tried to pull her hands out of his grasp.

Continuing to tightly hold her hands and not letting her pull away, he lovingly chided, “Dixie . . . . . . . . Love . . . . . . . . we have to find out.  We . . . . . . . . we . . . . . . . . have to know.”

Her shoulders sagged then as she began to crumple in the chair and the tears spilled down her cheeks.  He pulled her into a hug, knowing full well that he could never hold her tightly enough to protect her from this pain.  “Ssshhhh,” he murmured as he gently rocked her in his arms.

“NO!  I don’t want to know!” the frightened-mother in her soundlessly screamed, but the stronger nurse-mother in her admonished the frightened one into silence.  With an agony-filled sigh, she lifted her head from his shoulder and looked at him, waiting with trepidation to hear what he would say next.   

Her tear-stained face broke his heart.  Drawing her back into a hug, he softly told her, “Joe pulled some strings and got us an appointment with Chris Nelson over at the John Tracy Clinic.”

“When?” she whispered.  I could cry salty tears . . . . . . . .

“Tomorrow morning.”

Whimpering in resignation, she sought comfort in his embrace and worked at keeping her tears in check.  After a time, she moved to sit up as her mind worked to rationalize the inevit-able and the nurse in her once again gained some measure of control; “I suppose we need to go . . . . . . . . to know . . . . . . . .”  But the nurse could not quell the fear, or dispel the worry, or keep the mother from crying, and her tears fell once more. 

Gently, ignoring his own tears, he pulled her closer, and as he held her in his arms and stroked her hair, he softly reminded her, “Once it’s done, we’ll know what we need to do for her.”

After a time, she sniffled a bit and sat up.  Absently she stood, taking the now-cold cups of coffee to the sink and pouring them out.  Re-filling them, she returned to the table.  As she set down the cups of dark, steaming brew, she looked at Kell and suggested, “How about us taking the twins over to the park this afternoon?  They really like the playground there . . . . . . . .”

“Sure,” he agreed at once.  “And then we’ll go over to that silly ice cream shop they like so much.” 

And so the day passed; the twins, together as always, romping around the playground while their parents sought to comfort each other as they quietly fretted over what the coming day would bring.

********

“And what about . . . . . . . .” he paused momentarily as he looked at his notes, “Kevin?  Any problems there?”

“None,” Kell answered honestly.  He had moved the chair in which he sat over close to Dixie’s chair and was holding her hand as they answered the doctor’s questions.  The twins were across the room, quietly playing with each other.

It had been a long, arduous session.  First they’d gone over all the details of Dixie’s pregnancy with the twins, then reviewed the twins’ stay at Children’s after their premature birth. As a follow-up, they’d discussed the children’s general health and their pediatric records.  Now Doctor Nelson found his attention divided between the patient history he was trying to complete and watching the twins play.  He found them quite fascinating.  “Do they always play together like that?” he asked.

Nodding her head, Dixie said, “Always.  Now that they’re older, we tried putting them in separate bedrooms, but they didn’t like that at all.  One of them would always go find the other, and they’d just hold hands, curl up, and go to sleep.”  She smiled sheepishly as she shrugged and added, “We finally gave up on it and put them back together in the same room.”

Doctor Nelson smiled.  “What do they like to do?” he asked.

“Kevin likes to explore.  He’s always trying to see what makes something work,” Kell told Doctor Nelson.  “But Kelsie is happiest when she has a book or a magazine . . . . . . . . she can sit for hours, just turning the pages and looking . . . . . . . .” 

“Does she seem to prefer bright pictures?”

“She doesn’t really seem to care whether there are pictures or not,” Dixie told him.  “Any book will do --- even the dictionary.  She’ll climb up in Kell’s lap when he’s reading a medical journal and sit there with him, looking at the pages while he reads.”

“And she never says anything?  Never makes any sounds?”

Dixie shook her head.  Silence was not always golden.  “She cried when she was an infant; gurgled, cooed, but . . . . . . . .” 

“Do you read to them?” the doctor interrupted.

“Yeah,” said Kell, “and Dixie’s always sung to them . . . . . . . .”

They were silent for a moment then, observing the children as the stillness in the room was broken by Kevin’s soft murmuring to his sister while he puttered around with the trucks and the building blocks.  But, although she happily looked at Kevin, she made no sound, content to sit quietly in the middle of her brother’s blocks, acknowledging his singsong with a smile, and turning the pages of the book lying on the floor in front of her.

“Does Kevin speak clearly?” Doctor Nelson asked.

“Yes,” replied Dixie.  “But that,” she continued, indicating the nonsensical singsong sounds he was making as he played by Kelsie, “seems to mean something to them.  He does that a lot when they’re together and when we first put them to bed.”

“There are many documented cases of twins inventing their own private language,” Doctor Nelson said, “but it’s strange for one child to have a private language for both of them.”

. . . . . . . . you must remember this . . . . . . . . “He always seems to know what she wants or needs,” Dixie mused thoughtfully. 

After a moment, Doctor Nelson sighed softly at the growing list of questions in his mind and said, “Well, let’s get on with it.”  Pausing a moment, he added, “If you don’t object, I’d really like to test both children, even though Kevin does seem fine.”

“Whatever you think best,” Kell replied as they headed into the examination room.

Noticing that Dixie had squeezed Kell’s hand tightly and that her eyes looked vaguely fearful, he sought to reassure her.  “This won’t hurt them at all.  We’ll put Kelsie and Kevin to sleep.  We use these electrodes,” he said, showing her, “and this machine,” gently resting his hand on its top.  “The test tells us if sounds are reaching the brain.”  Pausing a moment, he added, “There’ll be no doubt.  Although the first test was inconclusive, when this is finished, we’ll know for certain if she’s deaf or not.”

Still tightly holding Kell’s hand, Dixie nodded her agreement.  Part of her did not want to do this, did not want to know.  The nurse in her knew that if Kelsie could actually hear, then other alternatives that might explain her lack of responsiveness would need to be explored --- alternatives altogether too frightening for Dixie to even begin to contemplate.  Her fear was not for herself, but for her child --- her beautiful daughter, so small, so precious, so loved . . . . . . . . and so vulnerable.   

Dixie stared into her empty coffee cup, her jumbled thoughts far away and filled with the darkness of looming fear.

“Want some more, Dix?” Kell asked softly; she shook her head in wordless reply.

“How long does this take?” she asked him, glancing at her watch once again.

“About half an hour, I think,” Kell replied, well aware that more than enough time had passed.  “But I’m sure there’s no problem.  It’s probably just taking a bit longer because they’re doing the test on both of them . . . . . . . .”  His musings faded away as Christopher Nelson walked into the coffee shop.

Glancing around the room, he spotted them and headed in their direction.  As he came over to the table, Kell stood up.

“All done,” he reported. 

“And?” Dixie asked, silent fear clouding her eyes.

“Let’s talk in my office,” the doctor said, turning away and heading toward the exit.  Still holding onto each other’s hands, Kell and Dixie tried to squelch their fears as they followed.

“There’s no doubt that she can hear,” he said.  “The sound is reaching her brain . . . . . . . . there’s no auditory problem.  As to why she does not respond,” he paused and, hoping his truthful response would provide just a bit of levity to lighten the mood in the room, then said, “maybe she’s just ignoring you!”

Kell and Dixie both laughed briefly, humorlessly.

“Seriously,” the doctor went on, “she may be overly intent on whatever it is that she’s doing or she really may just be ignoring you.”  After a slightly longer pause, he added, a bit hesitantly, “But I don’t think I would rule out some sort of autism just yet.”

Kell nodded, the prognosis just about what he had expected to hear if the tests proved that his daughter was not deaf.  Dixie was still and silent, but he could see the tears gathering behind the pools of sadness in her beautiful blue eyes.

“If she were my child,” Doctor Nelson advised, “I would go back to the pediatrician for a complete physical, and then I would have some neurological tests done.”  He consulted his notes, then added, “I’m sure Joe Early could do them for you.”

“Joe is Kelsie’s godfather,” Dixie said absently, wondering why the twins had not been brought back to the doctor’s office.  “Where are Kevin and Kelsie?”

“Well, Joe can certainly recommend someone if he’d prefer,” the doctor said, signaling for an assistant.  When she came in, he asked her to check on the twins.  “If they’re awake, please bring them here.”  As she turned to leave, he added, “Thanks.”

Finishing up his notes, he handed Kell a folder with a copy of the test results and his notes inside as he gently said, “At least now you’ve got some idea of where to go from here . . . . . . . .”

Rising and shaking the doctor’s hand, Kell said, “Thank you.”

“Please let me know how it goes,” responded Doctor Nelson.  “I’d really like to know what the outcome is . . . . . . . .”

As both sleepy children were brought in, Kell nodded his agreement.  In short order, the children were snuggled up in their parents’ arms and, having thanked the staff for their efforts, Kell and Dixie were on their way to the parking garage.

As Kell drove, they rode in silence, steeped in private thoughts.  Deftly maneuvering the car onto the freeway entrance, Kell merged with the swiftly-moving traffic as they headed toward home.  After a time, Dixie quietly asked, “Now what?”

“I don’t know, Love,” he replied softly.  “We should probably talk to Joe.”  He glanced over at her and instantly realized that her question had nothing to do with what came next.  “What is it, Dix?” he asked quietly.  “What are we really talking about?”

Fretting, her tone mirrored the sadness in her eyes.  “How can she be autistic?  She makes eye contact, she relates to us, to Kevin, to Joe, she likes to cuddle up and be hugged . . . . . . . .”

With a sad sigh of his own, he said, “I don’t know, Love.  I don’t see it, either.  I think we’ll have to talk to someone who knows a whole lot more about this than either you or I . . . . . . . .”  After a pause he vehemently declared, “Whatever she needs . . . . . . . . anything at all . . . . . . . . we’ll get it . . . . . . . . no matter what.”

They drove the rest of the way in silence, each ensnared in a quagmire of their own fears for their child.

********

“I’m not so sure I buy the autism diagnosis, either,” Joe said fervidly, shaking his head as he finished reading through the file.  “She’s just too alert, to prone to want to cuddle . . . . . . . .”

“But the neurologist said the same thing!” Dixie despaired. 

“Dix,” Kell interjected with a gentle, reproachful smile, “you asked Joe what he thought.  Why don’t you let him tell you?”

With a bit of self-deprecation in her tone, Dixie shrugged and said, “I’m sorry, Joe.  I really do want to know what you think.”  She paused a moment, but before Joe could say anything further, she asked, “Do you think the neurologist is wrong?”

“I don’t know, Honey,” he said gently.  “I’m just not sure I can buy the diagnosis, given the way Kelsie reacts to you and Kell, to Kevin, even to me.  It just seems like it’s an easy dismissal, too much of a lump-it-all-together call.  There are entirely too many things about Kelsie that simply don’t fit into any of the established patterns of autism.”

“Then what do you think we should do now, Joe?” she asked.

“About the only thing I heard from Comstock that I really thought had any merit was the signing idea,” Joe said.  “Do you think you might be able to learn to sign and see if Kelsie would communicate with you that way, Dix?”

Not surprising either Kell or Joe in the least, Dixie resolutely declared, “I could do anything she needed me to do for her.”

“Well, I’d go right on reading to her, talking to her, singing, doing all the stuff you’ve always done --- and learn to sign as well.  See if she’ll open up and respond to you with that.”

Joe’s suggestion sounded a whole lot better than sitting around and worrying about the “might be” of the problem, and it seemed to Dixie to be a whole lot more proactive than cavalierly writing her daughter off as an unreachable autistic child, so she set about finding herself a signing class. 

She turned out to be quite adept at the signing process, and, to her delight, was fairly successful at teaching Kell some of what she’d learned.  She decided to teach both the twins to sign, and was thrilled with how easily Kevin seemed to take to it.  Kelsie watched them, her dark eyes sparkling.  And, much to Dixie’s delight, she would occasionally respond with a sign of her own.  As far as Dixie was concerned, that was proof positive to disprove the doctors who had tried to write off her daughter as hopelessly lost in some autistic world of her own.  And this signing gave Kelsie a way to communicate with them whenever she wanted.  In Dixie’s mind, it was just about as perfect an outcome as she might ever have hoped to have.

Dixie became quite adept at conversing with Kelsie in sign, and, although she did not always respond, she always seemed to understand what Dixie was telling her.  More and more Dixie was becoming convinced that her daughter’s continued silence was not the result of some inability to deal with her environment.  She couldn’t quite figure it all out yet, but she was positive that Kelsie understood what was going on around her.  In her more frustrated moments, though, she worried about what would happen in a couple of years when they would be thinking about the twins starting school.  Generally, she tended to brush the thought away, though, not wanting to borrow any more trouble before it actually arrived to create some new calamity in their lives.

Kelsie’s silence aside, the twins continued to grow and thrive.  They remained as close as they had always been and, somehow, Kevin more and more seemed to tend to take on the added role of sister-protector.  He still spoke to her in their private singsong language, but neither Dixie nor Kell could fathom what he was saying and they never heard Kelsie respond verbally to him.  In that regard, she seemed to have continued to remain locked in her silence. 

********

“Dix,” queried Kell as he came into the kitchen one evening, “do you remember that medical conference up in Ventura?”

“How could I ever forget that?” she asked in surprise as she turned away from drying the last of the dishes to face him.

Smiling ruefully, he took the dishtowel from her and tossed it onto the counter as he took hold of her hand and led her into the living room.  “Yeah, well, I suppose that was a pretty silly question,” he said with a slight chuckle as he sat down on the sofa and pulled her down next to him.  “Remember I told you I went to check out a little shop that Vic Evers told me about?”

She nodded, puzzled at the whole conversation.

“I’d forgotten about it until this came,” he said, holding up a large padded envelope.  “There’s an apology for this taking so long to get here,” he said with a small laugh as he pulled a sheet of paper out of the envelope, “and this,” he continued, pulling out a small silver box.  He smiled and held it out to her.

Not knowing what to expect, she reached out and took the box from his hand.  Carefully opening it, she found a necklace nestled inside.  Two identical openwork gold hearts, accented with diamonds, were intertwined to form the charm.  “It’s beautiful!” she exclaimed; then she turned to Kell as she added, “I don’t understand.  It’s not my birthday or anything.”

Kell smiled at the woman who owned his heart.  “I asked them to make it for you.  I wanted to give you something special after the twins were born, and I just couldn’t find anything that seemed quite right.  So when Vic told me about this little shop that would custom-make jewelry, I thought I would . . . . . . . .”

Kell discovered, then, that it simply was not possible to talk when Dixie was kissing him like that, so he abandoned the explanation and instead concentrated on kissing her back.  

********

As the last days of summer waned into fall, Dixie set about planning a birthday party for the twins.  After no small amount of agonizing over the possibilities, she had decided on a quiet celebration with a picnic in the park.  Not too many guests --- just family and close friends.  She’d had more than her fill of well-meaning, opinionated acquaintances offering unsolicited advice regarding Kelsie, and she wanted this birthday celebration to be nothing more than a day of fun for the children.  No doom and gloom prophecies, no “maybe if you did this” or “maybe you should’ve tried that” to cast shadows over the twins’ special day . . . . . . . . just a day to celebrate, to share their joy that Kevin and Kelsie were part of their family.  Even though it seemed as if they’d always been there, it was hard to believe they were going to be four already . . . . . . . .

The ringing telephone broke into her reverie.  Kell answered; simply from hearing his end of the conversation, she knew their plans for a day at the playground with the twins had just crashed headlong into a crisis at the hospital.  As Kell came into the room, she asked, “How big is the emergency?”

“Surgery,” he replied as he grabbed his jacket, gave her a quick kiss, and headed for the door.  “Probably take most of the morning.”  He stopped and turned back toward her, adding, “Why don’t you go ahead and take the twins to the playground?  I’ll try to meet you there for lunch.”  It wasn’t at all what they’d planned for their day, but it was the best alternative he could conjure up on his way out the front door.

To his immense relief, she smiled and nodded.  “OK, we’ll meet you at the playground for a picnic lunch.”

“I’m sorry . . . . . . . .” he began.

“Go; take care of your patient,” she interrupted with a smile.  “We’ll see you . . . . . . . . marvelous you . . . . . . . .for lunch.”   

Looking up from her plan-making, Dixie checked on the twins yet again.  They were still totally occupied with their supremely favorite playground pastime --- the slide.  Dixie smiled as she watched Kevin slide down, then stand at the bottom and wait for Kelsie to slide.  When she reached the bottom, he grabbed her hand, pulled her to her feet, and they ran around to the ladder, carefully climbed up, and did it again.  And again, and again.  Somehow they never seemed to tire of this little game.

Still keeping an eye on the twins, she returned to her birthday party plan-making, only to be interrupted by a sudden scream of pain and fright.  She saw a small girl lying by the swings, blood gushing from her leg.  With a quick glance at Kevin and Kelsie, she ran over to the screaming child.  A small crowd had gathered, but no one seemed to know what to do.  A hasty survey told Dixie that the child had fallen onto a sharp shard of glass embedded in the sand and the amount of blood flowing from the wound indicated to her that an artery had been cut.  Quickly pulling off the camp shirt she was wearing over her tank top and jeans, she tore it into strips to use as a compress and tightly tied the makeshift bandage over the deep wound.     

Glancing over at the slide while she applied pressure to try and staunch the heavy bleeding, she saw Kevin just reaching the top of the ladder.  At that moment, an older child ran up the slide from the bottom and she watched, terror-stricken, as the boy, turning to sit and slide back down, pushed Kevin away.  The world suddenly seemed to be moving in slow motion as Kevin toppled backward from the top of the slide.  In horror, Dixie watched as Kevin tumbled to the ground --- and Kelsie, who had grabbed hold of his hand, fell right along with him.       

She felt divided, somehow, as if she were, in some impossible way, standing beside herself, observing, watching her every move.  The observer part of her heard her call out for someone to call the paramedics and an ambulance and watched her as she carefully checked the children, now lying silent and still in a tangled heap at the foot of the playground slide ladder.

********

“Welcome to Emergency, Doctor Mitchell,” said Mike Morton warmly.  “We sure can use your help around here!”

“Thanks!  I’m really looking forward to working at Rampart.”

Smiling, Mike introduced the doctor to the nursing staff.  As Betty welcomed him, Mike asked, “Dixie due back tomorrow?”

“Thursday,” Betty answered, turning to answer the telephone.

Stopping Joe Early as he came out of the elevator, Mike introduced the two doctors.  “Doctor Joe Early, meet our new staff doctor, Adam Mitchell.”  The two doctors shook hands. 

Promptly echoing Mike’s earlier sentiment about really needing his help in their department, Joe smiled warmly as the younger man told him he was looking forward to working in Emergency. 

“Are you in charge here?” he asked Joe. 

Joe grinned as he said, “Doctor Brackett is in surgery right now, but you’ll get to meet him soon enough, I’m sure.”

The arrival of two ambulances interrupted their lighthearted banter and sent them all scurrying.

“Squad Fifty-One, K-M-G Three, Six, Five,” Captain Hank Stanley responded, jotting down the address for the two paramedics.  Siren screaming, the squad headed out to answer the call.

“Playground,” sighed Johnny Gage morosely.  “That probably means hurt kids.”

“Yeah, Junior, it probably does,” replied Roy, his insides drawn up in knots as well.  Calls for injured children were always among the very hardest for the two paramedics.

Vaguely aware of the screaming sirens as help approached, Dixie was functioning on automatic.  She’d gotten someone in the crowd to apply pressure to slow the young girl’s bleeding while she had done everything she could for the twins.  Certain that Kelsie’s right wrist was dislocated, she’d already splinted and immobilized it.  Now there was nothing more for her to do except keep them quiet and still until help arrived.  Hearing the wail of the sirens, Dixie’s frightened helper thrust the injured girl back into her arms and ran off, leaving Dixie numbly sitting on the ground beside the twins, holding the injured child on her lap, all the while waiting . . . . . . . . watching . . . . . . . . praying.

Johnny jumped from the squad as Roy pulled up to the curb and immediately began hauling out the equipment.  Together they ran across the grass toward the small knots of people standing around the slide.  Behind them, they heard the police car and the ambulance arriving.

“Excuse me,” said Roy, weaving through the crowd.

“Let us through, please,” said Johnny, working his way around a knot of onlookers.  Looking back, he saw Vince and called out, “Vince, can you move these people back?”

As Vince began moving the onlookers away, Dixie looked up at them and, indicating the girl in her lap, told Roy, “She has a deep gash on her leg.  I think the artery is cut.”  

“What happened?” Johnny asked, indicating Kevin and Kelsie.

“They fell from the top of the slide ladder,” Dixie replied.  The monotone of her voice troubled Roy and he tried to reassure her as he took the girl from her lap.  Following Doctor Mitchell’s orders over the bio-phone, the two paramedics started IVs, put the twins on backboards, and prepared all three children for transport.  Ready to leave, Roy helped Dixie to her feet and led her over to the ambulance for the short ride to Rampart.

Doctor Mitchell met them at the entrance and took charge of the children.  The little girl was taken upstairs immediately, while Kevin and Kelsie were put into a treatment room.  “Wait here,” Doctor Mitchell ordered as he closed the door, refusing to al-low either Dixie or the paramedics to follow him into the room. 

The door had no sooner shut than their handi-talkie squawked to life and the two paramedics reluctantly headed back to the squad.  Roy tried to once again reassure Dixie that the twins would be just fine; Johnny told her to call them at the station.  Dixie nodded as they left, then leaned against the wall outside the door, waiting.  Not seeing anyone around, she absently noted how unusually quiet it was in Emergency.  She started as Doctor Mitchell came through the treatment room door.

“Your children?” he queried harshly; she nodded in silent reply.

“How in the world could you be so stupid and careless?” he demanded.  “Why weren’t you watching them?”

Dixie stared at him, her eyes brimming with tears.

“Why were they alone?” the doctor yelled.  “Why would you ever let children that young play on a slide in the first place?”   He was enraged.  “I’m calling Children’s Services.  They will find responsible people to take care of those children properly!”

Joe and Kell, still in scrubs, came out of the elevator just in time to hear the last few words of the doctor’s tirade.  Looking at each other in amazement, the two stunned doctors hurried down the hall to find out exactly what was happening. 

Dixie, now convinced the twins were badly hurt . . . . . . . . or worse . . . . . . . . burst into tears and, unable to handle anything more, simply slid down the wall until she was sitting on the floor.

“That’s enough!” said Joe, grabbing the doctor’s arm and pushing him away.  “Get out of here!” he demanded.  “GO!” 

Muttering, the doctor headed for the break room as Joe turned his attention to the sobbing woman sitting on the floor.

Kell, suddenly realizing it was Dixie that the doctor had been berating, had knelt down beside her.  “Dix?” he queried as he gathered her into his arms.  “Sweetheart, what happened?”

Unnerved, frightened, and teetering on the edge of hysteria, Dixie whimpered, “I’m sorry . . . . . . . . I’m so sorry . . . . . . . .”

Confused and concerned, Kell tried to comfort her. 

Joe stooped down next to Dixie and Kell.  “Let’s take her to your office,” he suggested to Kell; together they got her up and led over to Kell’s office.

“Do you have any idea what this is all about, Joe?” asked Kell as they sat her down on the sofa in his office.  Dixie was still crying uncontrollably and clutched at Kell in despair. 

“Not a clue,” he replied.  “Mitchell was saying something to her about people taking care of children properly . . . . . . . .”

“Dix?” he queried, but, realizing that he would get no answers from her until she had calmed down some, he looked at Joe.   “Could you see what you can find out about it?”  Troubled, he added,  “And maybe find out where Kevin and Kelsie are?” 

Intending to call the nurses’ station, Joe moved toward the desk; a knock at the door interrupted him.

He opened the door part way and found Mike standing there. 

“Roy and Johnny say they need to talk to you right away.”

“I’ll be right back, Kell,” Joe said as he stepped outside the office to speak with the two paramedics.  

Finally, Kell managed to get Dixie calmed down enough to stop crying.  Confused, worried, and angry, he was hoping that perhaps now he might get some answers, some sort of an explanation of what in the world had brought all this about. 

Joe knocked; then, without waiting for a response, came into the office, Roy and Johnny in tow.  Kell looked up expectantly.

“Johnny and Roy went on a call out to the playground,” Joe told him.  “They brought Kevin, Kelsie, and another girl in.  The other girl is in surgery now.  The twins are banged up a bit, but they’ll be OK . . . . . . . . they’ve been taken up to pediatrics.”

A coalescence of hope and fear filled her barely audible whisper.  “They’re all right?”

“Kevin has a slight concussion, Kelsie has a dislocated wrist,” Joe reported gently.  “A few scrapes and some bumps and bruises . . . . . . . . they’ll be up and around in no time at all.”

“Dix,” asked Kell gently, still holding her tightly in his arms and feeling her sigh of relief at Joe’s words, “what happened?”

It took her a minute to compose herself enough to tell them.  “They were . . . . . . . . playing on the slide, like always,” Dixie began softly.  “The girl cut her leg on a shard of glass.  It was bad --- cut an artery.  There wasn’t anyone . . . . . . . .”  After a short pause, she continued, “I used the shirt for a bandage, put pressure on it . . . . . . . . and then, after the twins . . . . . . . . someone called the paramedics and an ambulance.”

“How did Kevin and Kelsie get hurt?” he asked gently.

“I was watching them,” she defended tearfully.  “I was!”

“I know you were,” he soothed.  “Tell me what happened.”

“I was keeping pressure . . . . . . . . there was no one there to take care of the girl . . . . . . . .”

“Kevin and Kelsie?” he prompted gently.

“They were playing . . . . . . . . on the slide and . . . . . . . . a boy pushed Kevin . . . . . . . . and he fell off the top of the ladder.  Kelsie fell with him . . . . . . . .”  Tears spilled from her eyes as she defended, “I did everything I could until help came . . . . . . . .”

“Yeah, Doc, she really did a great job,” interjected Johnny.  “She already had a bandage on the girl, and was applying pressure when we got there.”

“And Kelsie’s wrist was immobilized,” added Roy. “Dixie really did everything that could have been done.”  After a moment, he added, “You know, that little girl lost an awful lot of blood.  If Dixie hadn’t been there, I don’t think she’d have made it.”

“So what’s all the fuss and yelling about?” Kell demanded, his confusion and anger over the handling of the situation and his concern for Dixie and the twins momentarily getting the best of him.  “And why was Doctor Whoever-He-Is screaming at Dixie?”

“That’s our new staff doctor, Adam Mitchell.”  Joe shrugged.  “I have no idea why he was castigating Dixie, though.”

“Dix?” Kell enquired gently.

“I’m not sure,” she said as tears brimmed in her eyes.  “He wouldn’t let me go in the treatment room with them . . . . . . . . he was angry when he came out . . . . . . . . he said I was careless; irresponsible to let them play on the slide . . . . . . . .”  Her words faded away as she remembered his promise to call Children’s Services and have them come and get the twins.  Unable to muster enough strength to deal with the prospect of having Children’s Services take the children away from her, Dixie retreated into silence as tears coursed down her cheeks.

Not understanding her fear, Kell quietly reassured, “There’s nothing to cry about, Dix.  It’s not your fault . . . . . . . .”  

“Please don’t let them take them away,” she pleaded, clutching at his scrub shirt, her voice filled with despair.

Drawing her into a comforting hug, he asked, mystified, “Who?”

“Kevin and Kelsie . . . . . . . . Please . . . . . . . .” she begged.

“Nobody’s going to take Kevin or Kelsie anywhere,” he chided softly.  “Where’d you ever get a silly idea like that?”

Turning her head, she looked at him, her eyes filled with abject despair.  “He said . . . . . . . .Children’s Services would . . . . . . . .”  Overcome, she dissolved into hysterical tears.  “P-p-p-please, don’t let them  . . . . . . . . take them away . . . . . . . . please!”

Struggling to console her, he looked at Joe, fire blazing in his eyes.  Joe, recognizing the look, said, “I’ll handle this; you take care of Dixie.  Go up and see the twins . . . . . . . . it’s room 309.”

Kell nodded as Joe ushered Roy and Johnny out of the office. 

“Phew!” he remarked as he rolled his eyes heavenward.  “I see our new doctor’s fitting right in . . . . . . . . no problem at all!”

“Yeah, sure he is,” muttered Roy in aggravated annoyance, “just about as good as a dry hose at a raging forest fire!”

“Well, we’d better get back,” said Johnny.  “Let us know if we can do anything . . . . . . . .”  Bidding Joe farewell, the two paramedics headed back toward the squad while Joe went off to track down Rampart’s newest staff doctor. 

“He’s having a cup of coffee,” Betty advised as Joe came up to the nurses’ station.  She pointed toward the break room. 

Joe shook his head in acknowledgement and headed in that direction.  Mike, having a cup of coffee with Adam, looked up as he came in and offered to draw him a cup of coffee from the pot.  Joe accepted with thanks and sat down at the table with his colleagues.

Ignoring Adam’s disgruntled glance, Joe took a sip of coffee and asked, “So, how’s your first day so far, Doctor?”

“Not too bad,” Adam replied casually.  “No big emergencies,” he remarked.  “Mostly senseless accidents.”  After a moment, he added, “Or neglectful mothers being stupid and letting their kids almost get killed.”

“Is that what all the fuss in the hallway was about?”

“Yeah.”  Contemptuously, he added, “Playing alone on a slide.  She wasn’t even there watching ’em . . . . . . . . just babies.”

“They’ll be four in a couple of days,” Joe said quietly.

“You know them?” he asked, his superior attitude losing just a bit of its bluster.

“They’re my godchildren.”

“Kevin and Kelsie?” Mike interjected.  “What happened?”

“Got pushed off the top of the playground slide,” Joe told him. 

“Uuunnnhhhh,” said Mike with a grimace.  “Are they all right?”

“Yeah, they’ll be fine,” Joe said with a shake of his head.  “Not too sure about their doctor, though . . . . . . . .”

“And just what is that supposed to mean?” Adam demanded.

“Offhand, I’d say your bedside manner needs a bit of work,” said Joe carefully.  “I can’t think of any reason for you to have dealt with their mother like that.  No matter what you thought.  Even if she had done something wrong, you’re not the judge or the jury.  Your job here is to provide medical help . . . . . . . .”

“You should be worried about your godchildren then, and not fussing just because their mother happens to be a friend of yours,” Doctor Mitchell accused Joe harshly.  After a moment, he muttered, “You wouldn’t care at all if you didn’t know her!”

“I’d most certainly care if you treated anyone in this hospital like that!” Joe snapped, clearly angry.

“What happened?” Mike demanded in confusion.

“Nothing,” replied the doctor arrogantly.  “I gave the mother a good talking-to . . . . . . . . told her I’d have Children’s Services find someone who would take care of the kids properly.”

“WHAT?!” 

“You’d better get a whole lot more regard for people . . . . . . . . and you’d better get it in a hurry . . . . . . . . if you expect to work in this department, Doctor,” Kell said icily as he stood in the break room doorway.  “If we EVER have a repeat of what happened here today, it won’t matter how good a doctor you are, you won’t be working in any department in this hospital.” 

“Now just a minute . . . . . . . .” he began, but Kell had already turned away, letting the door close behind him.  With a shake of his head, Joe stood and followed him out of the room.

Stunned, Mike exclaimed, “I don’t believe you!”

But Adam stormed out, ignoring him.  “We’ll just see about that!” he muttered as the door slammed closed behind him.

********

Opting to stay with the twins until they were released from the hospital, Dixie didn’t get back to work until Saturday.  Before settling down at the nurses’ station with her ever-present stack of paperwork, and the next week’s duty schedule, she decided she would stop in and check on Carmen.

Once she got up to pediatrics, she headed for Carmen’s room.  The little girl had just finished her breakfast and was playing with a much-loved teddy bear when Dixie came into her room.  “How’s your leg today, Sweetie?” she asked the little girl.

Carmen smiled at her and said, “Better, Pretty Nurse Lady.”

After spending a few minutes with the child, and assured by her doctor that the little girl would recover, Dixie pushed the call button for the elevator and headed for the first floor.  She was still smiling over Carmen’s “Pretty Nurse Lady” as she exited the elevator and approached the nurses’ station.

“Glad to see you’re in such a good mood,” teased Joe as he came away from the base station and stood facing her.

“Know who I am, Joe?” she queried with just a hint of a smile. 

“Who?”

“Pretty Nurse Lady,” she replied with a gentle laugh.

“Says who?” he teased.

“Carmen.” 

“Oh, really,” he smirked.  As he turned to go, he chuckled and added, “You know, Dix, I never argue with children . . . . . . . . especially when they’re right!”

Still smiling, she settled down to working out the duty schedule.    

 “Dix, can you help in two?” Kell called as he headed into treatment room four.

Pushing the paperwork aside, she rose and quickly went to the treatment room. 

The doctor, his back to the door as he examined a young patient, heard her come in.  “Tim Clark’s mother is waiting outside; get a parental treatment consent form signed,” he snapped.

Dixie shrugged, but said nothing as she set about having the proper forms completed and signed.  That done, she returned to the treatment room with the paperwork.

“Start an IV, D5-W, TKO,” he ordered as he studied an x-ray. 

She worked without comment, establishing the IV as the doctor continued studying x-rays.  Whimpering in fear and pain, the child squirmed; Dixie spoke softly to him as she gently brushed his hair from his face, attempting to keep him calm and quiet.

“That’s all, nurse, you may go now,” the doctor said as he re-examined two of the x-rays.

Surprised, she looked over in his direction.

“You may go,” he coldly repeated, his back still to her.

Puzzled, Dixie offered a final soothing word to the youngster as she left the treatment room.

“Thought you were assisting in two,” Kell said as she came back to the nurses’ station.

“I was told to go,” she answered, still perplexed over the turn of events.  “Just following doctor’s orders,” she added as she reached over to answer the phone while Kell went off in search of answers for a couple of his own more puzzling questions. 

Doctor Mitchell was gathering up the x-rays when Kell came into the treatment room.  The child was being moved upstairs and Kell stepped aside to allow the gurney to pass.  Noticing the child’s frightened look, he took a moment to smile and speak softly to him.  Signaling the orderlies to continue moving the patient, he returned his attention to Doctor Mitchell.  “Doctor?” he queried.

“Is there a problem?” he asked sharply.

“Not that I know of,” Kell replied evenly.  “What have you got?”

“Nothing serious.  It’s all taken care of,” he answered curtly as he dropped the x-rays into their envelope and picked up the patient chart.  Without another word, he brushed past Kell and headed out of the treatment room.

His medical skills were sound, but Kell was none too sure that they needed the extra help badly enough to put up with Doctor Mitchell’s annoying attitude and abrasive arrogance.  Shaking his head in frustration, he turned to leave the treat-ment room.  Worry gnawed at him as he headed for his office.  

The phone was ringing as he came in.  Grabbing up the receiver, he answered, “Doctor Brackett.”  He listened a moment, then replied, “I’ll be right there.”  He quickly looked through the patient files on his desk as he hung up the phone.  Finding the one he needed, he headed for the elevator, stopping at the nurses’ station just long enough to tell Dixie, “I’ll be upstairs consulting with Doctor Craemer if you need me.”

Still struggling with the duty schedule, she glanced up at him as she offered a quick, “OK,” before returning her attention to the paperwork.  It would occupy the rest of her morning before it finally fell into place.

********

Much to Dixie’s consternation, despite the accident at the playground, the twins’ enthusiasm for playing on the slide did not seem to have been diminished at all.  Having been tasked with watching the children while Dixie set out food for lunch, Kell, who understood her propensity to worry about them, made sure that someone went over to the slide with them.

Looking around, he reflected on just how lucky they were to have their friends joining in the twins’ birthday celebration.  Work schedules and the general busy-ness of life meant it had been almost a year since they’d seen Gene Fischer and Ted MacIntyre, who were both now over at the slide with Kevin and Kelsie; they’d seen Dick Evanston, who was helping Dixie with the food, a bit more since Children’s was a whole lot closer to them than Camarillo Community.  And, although she did not know them very well, Dixie had insisted that Kell invite Marc Desmond and some of his other friends from Carpinteria --- a piece of his life that seemed to him more like a dream than reality, but resulting in friendships he treasured.  Still . . . . . . . .

“Hey, Doc,” Johnny interrupted his thought.  “Seen Roy lately?”

Shaking his head, Kell answered, “Not for a while.  Last I knew he and Joanne were trying to get together a softball game.”       

“Thanks,” Johnny called as he ran off to continue his search.

Kell, making sure someone was still at the slide with the twins, met up with Joe and they both wandered over to help Dixie.

“Nice get-together,” Kell commented as he came up behind her.  “Looks like everyone’s having a great time . . . . . . . .”

 . . . . . . . . like a child at play . . . . . . . . “Where are the twins?”

“Where else?  On the slide,” he replied.  He didn’t miss the trace of fear and worry that passed across her face; “Gene and Ted are with them,” he added.  “They’re just fine.”

********

“Well, Love, you certainly throw a mean birthday party,” Kell complimented with a satisfied sigh as he stretched out on the sofa.  “It was great to see everyone, a good time was had by all, and the birthday kids just had a grand old time.”

“It was nice, wasn’t it?” she responded from the kitchen.  “I’m glad everyone had fun.  And it sure was good to see Ted and Gene again.  It’s really been a long time . . . . . . . .” 

“Yeah, I know,” he said.  “But it’s so hard to find the time to get up there.  They definitely had fun with the twins, though --- did you see them all playing on the slide?”

“Sure did!” she laughed.  A pause, then she mused . . . . . . . . as time goes by . . . . . . . . “Hard to believe they’re four already.”   

Not too sure what she was doing, he called out, “Need help?”

“All done,” she said, coming into the living room.  “Just had to put a couple of things away,” she added as she headed over toward the sofa.  “Probably should have done it before, but if I hadn’t gotten the twins into their pajamas . . . . . . . .”

“I’d have helped you get them ready for bed,” he protested, sitting up.  “Why didn’t you tell me you were doing that?”

“You,” she smiled, “were still bringing the stuff in from the car!”

“Oh,” he said.  As he took hold of her hand and pulled her down next to him, he asked, “Are they asleep now?”

“Almost before they were tucked in,” she reported, leaning over to give him a kiss.

“Uuummmm,” he murmured as he drew her into a hug and turned his attention to returning the kiss. 

********

As a dusky twilight settled, the helicopter made another water drop.  The brush fire, started by a careless smoker, was one of the most unyielding ones they had fought in a long time.  The pilot noted the passel of trucks and men dotting the ground below, all working together to defeat the raging inferno of this stubborn fire.  After all these hours, it was finally beginning to look as if the firefighters were at last gaining the upper hand. 

Darkness had long since settled when Captain Stanley observed the helicopter make its final water drop.  Between the trucks and the water drops, they’d finally gotten the relentless brush fire under control.  They’d been at it most of the evening, and the long day they’d already put in was beginning to catch up to all of them.  It didn’t help any that four men from Station Ten had been burned when the fire had suddenly flared; Roy and Johnny were confident, however, that they’d all recover.

After a while, Chet wearily stumbled by, on his way toward the engine, pausing only long enough to state the obvious, “Looks like we’re cleaned up and just about ready to go, Cap.”

Nodding, Hank Stanley glanced around, his eyes seeking the rest of his men.  John and Roy, having accompanied the burn victims to Rampart, had been told not to return and would be on their way back to the station.  Marco and Mike were wearily leaning against the rig as Chet Kelly wandered over in their direction.  “OK,” he called out, “let’s get back to the station.”

Johnny picked up the supplies from Carol and, after stopping to ask Mike Morton just once more about the four firemen, headed out to meet Roy at the squad.  Assured that all four men, now being treated in the burn ward, would recover, he was more than ready to return to the station and hit the sack.

His muscles protesting, Roy stretched as Johnny climbed in and shut the door.  “Ready, Junior?” he asked tiredly.  Expecting no answer and getting none, he headed back to the station.

********

Dixie completed some notations on the chart and returned it to the rack.  Only an hour or so remained in her shift, and she was definitely looking forward to getting home. 

“Nurse, where are the x-rays I ordered?” demanded Doctor Mitchell as he came up to the counter.

Turning around, Dixie was none too pleased to find herself once again face-to-face with Emergency’s newest staff doctor.  Pushing her personal feelings aside, she maintained her cool professional demeanor and replied, “They’ll be ready in about ten minutes.  Sylvia said she would bring them down herself.”

“You’re a nurse?!”    

Before she could reply, the telephone jangled, cutting off her sharp retort.  Eyes blazing, she worked to control her anger as she reached to answer it.  “Rampart Emergency, Miss McCall.”  She listened a moment, then responded, “We’ll be ready.”  Breaking the connection, she listened for the dial tone and dialed in Kell’s office extension.  When he answered, she said, “We’ve got about seventeen people on the way in . . . . . . . . a gang fight of some sort.  They should be here any minute now.” 

She broke the connection as soon as Kell acknowledged and, once more hearing a dial tone, had Joe Early and Mike Morton paged to Emergency.  Following a quick call to alert security, she arranged for the assistance of two extra doctors.  The arrival of an ambulance sent Doctor Mitchell off to the treat-ment room and Dixie heaved a sigh of relief as she assembled her nurses and set about instructing them on their duties.

“Dixie,” Kell called to her as he accompanied the gurney into the treatment room, “get x-ray down here and draw blood for type and cross match . . . . . . . .”  The rest of his words were lost as he disappeared behind the closing door.  Dixie called up to x-ray, then hurried into the treatment room.   

Preparing to draw blood for the type and cross match, she looked at the young man lying there as she came around the treatment table.  Unbidden, a swell of memories assailed her and she looked over at Kell as she asked, “How bad is it?” 

“Don’t know yet,” he said distractedly as she drew the blood.  Sending it up to the lab with a student nurse, she set about getting vitals as she fretted over the young man.

Kell glanced at her and saw anguish imbuing her face.  “He’ll be fine,” he said gently.  “I won’t let anything happen to him.”

The young man groaned as he opened his eyes, interrupting Kell’s declaration.  Struggling to pull himself up, he fought against the doctor’s restraining hands on his shoulders, but found his strength lacking.  Worse yet, his leg felt as if it was on fire.

“Take it easy,” Kell soothed.  “You’re going to be just fine.”  After a moment, he gently asked, “What’s your name?”

The young man glared at the doctor.  Fear momentarily flitted through his eyes; but then, knowing he could trust this one, he ceased struggling, relaxed, and quietly answered, “Jonathan.”

He smiled at the young gang leader.  “I’m Doctor Brackett, Jonathan,” he said.  “And you know Nurse McCall . . . . . . . .”      

Dixie took hold of his hand as Kell continued, “We’re going to send you upstairs to have your leg fixed.”  Sensing his concern, he added, “Don’t worry; we’ll take very good care of you.”

“Melai?” Jonathan asked worriedly.

“Dix,” Kell said softly, “can you check and see if she’s here?”

She gave Jonathan’s hand a gentle squeeze.  “I’ll be right back,” she said, heading off to find out about the girl.

Kell turned back to the young man.  “Dixie will find out.”  After a pause, he softly sighed, “All this gang fighting is going to get you killed one day, Jonathan . . . . . . . .”

He turned his head away.  After a few moments, he mumbled, “Tried t’ git out, but tain’t no gittin’ out ’lessen youse . . . . . . . .”

Shaking his head in weary frustration, Kell tuned out the rest of Jonathan’s answer.  He’d heard it all before, and he knew the simple street answer for how to get out of the gang was to die.

Dixie’s return startled him; he stepped back as she came over to stand beside the treatment table.  Taking hold of Jonathan’s hand once again, she quietly said, “Melai’s up in surgery now.”  After a moment, she added, “They’ll do everything they can.”

Jonathan turned his head away once more, this time so she would not see the tears filling his eyes.

Dixie followed them out of the room as Kell accompanied Jonathan upstairs.  Hearing the phone ring, she hurried her steps toward the nurses’ station, but by the time she reached the counter Joe had already answered it.  Hanging up the phone, Joe made a notation on the chart in his hand; spotting Dixie’s sad eyes, he said, “C’mon, I’ll buy you a cup of coffee.”

“I have to check on something; I’ll meet you there in a minute.”

Adam Mitchell was sitting at a table in the break room.  As Joe came in, he exclaimed, “Wow!  What a mess that was!”

Joe drew two cups of coffee from the pot as Adam went on, “Stupid gangs.  They should all just kill each other and get it over with so we wouldn’t have to put up with them any more!”

Dixie, coming through the door, paled at his comment, turned on her heel, and left without a word.  

Surprised, Joe went after her.  He did not find her at the nurses’ station as he had expected and he asked Carol if she’d seen her.  Continuing on toward the elevator, Carol told him, “She was going into Doctor Brackett’s office just a minute ago.”

“Thanks,” he said, heading down the hall toward Kell’s office.

He knocked gently at the door; receiving no response, he quietly opened the door and stuck his head inside.  Dixie was sitting on the sofa, a few stray tears trickling down her cheek.

“Dix?” he softly queried as he came in and sat beside her. 

“Why is he always so contrary and mean?” she sniffled.

“Who?  Doctor Mitchell?”

She nodded.  “I know gang life isn’t much, but to just wish for them to all kill each other seems so heartless and . . . . . . . .”

The opening of the door broke into her comment and she looked up as Kell came in.  “Kell?” she queried worriedly.

Crossing over to the sofa, he stooped down beside her.  “Melai is in recovery; Jonathan’s doing just fine,” he said, brushing the tears from her cheek.  Puzzled, he looked at Joe expectantly.

“Our new doctor said some rather uncomplimentary things about our gang patients,” Joe said.  “What’s this all about?”

Doctor Mitchell again.  Kell sighed; this was getting to be too much, too often.  He’d have to address it before it really got out of hand.  “Remember that gang thing at the dry cleaners?  The young man that helped Dixie --- he’s one of our patients.”

Joe nodded his understanding as Kell added, “He’ll be fine --- this time.”

********

Dix,” Kell queried, “what would you think about taking the twins up to Big Bear for a few days?  We could make it a long weekend . . . . . . . .”

Looking up from her book, she answered, “Sound like fun, but this close to the Christmas holidays I imagine it’ll be awfully hard to find a place to stay up there.”  

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” he said confidently, causing her to look over at him in surprise. 

His impish grin couldn’t help but give it away, and she playfully threw a pillow at him.  “Kelly Brackett, you’re impossible!”

Laughing as he caught the pillow, he teased, “Why don’t you come over here and let me tell you all about it?”

“Not a chance!” she laughed.

“OK,” he said turning back to his medical journal with a shrug.  “Don’t say I didn’t try to tell you . . . . . . . .”  

“C’mon, Kell,” she implored, rolling her eyes, “just what have you gone and done now?”

He ignored her, seemingly intent on his medical journal.

“Kell-l-l-l-l.”

Sighing, she put her book aside and walked across the room. 

Kell looked up at her over the top of the medical journal.  “What?” he queried, the picture of perfect innocence.

“C’mon, Kell . . . . . . . .”

Laughing, he tossed the journal aside and pulled her into his lap.  Talking was absolutely the very last thing on his mind. 

Pulling back from his kiss, she smiled as she sighed contentedly.  Mischievously mustering up some small amount of smugness, she looked into his eyes and ruffled his hair as she laughingly remarked, “See, I knew you wouldn’t tell me about it . . . . . . . .”

“Now why would you ever say such a thing?” he mocked in a pretending-to-have-hurt-feelings voice as he gently brushed his hand across her cheek.  “Of course I would,” he continued, drawing her close and kissing her once more. 

“So tell me,” she murmured as she returned the kiss.

“Tell you what?” he teased with another kiss as he brushed his hand through her soft blonde hair.

“Kell-l-l-l-l,” she soughed as he answered with an easy laugh.

“Ted’s got a cabin up at Big Bear that he offered to let us use.”  Settling back on the sofa, he kissed her as he added, “He thought we. . . . . . . .” drawing her into “might like . . . . . . . .”  another kiss, “to go up there . . . . . . . .”  She kissed him back as he worked at finishing the thought, “for a few days . . . . . . . .”

“Mmmmmmmmmmmm.”  Definitely no longer thinking about the cabin in the mountains.

“Dix?”

“Hhhmmmm?” . . . . . . . singing songs of love with another kiss.

“Don’t you . . . . . . . .” he sighed, “want to . . . . . . . .” as he kissed her, “know about . . . . . . . .” once again, “the cabin?”

“Uuummmm,” she dreamily murmured as she snuggled into his embrace . . . . . . . . but for tonight forget it . . . . . . . . “later,” and began to unbutton his shirt as she kissed him once again. 

******** 

“Well, Joanne and I thought we’d take the kids up to the mountains and do some skiing.”

“What about school?” asked Marco. 

“Winter vacation,” Roy replied.  “This is the only time we can go . . . . . . . . Joanne doesn’t want to take them out of school just to go on vacation,” he added.

“When are you going?” Chet asked as he busied himself setting the dishes out for dinner.

“In a couple of weeks,” Roy replied.  “I covered for Craig Brice last week and he’ll cover for me.”  With a glance over at Johnny, who was digging in the refrigerator for some butter, he added, “Johnny’ll be on days off then, too, so it’ll be OK.”

“What’re we having?” Johnny asked, nabbing a slice of bread from the dish in Mike’s hand as he headed toward the table. 

“Beef stew.”  After a moment, Captain Stanley added, “OK?”

“Sounds great, Cap,” said Johnny as he sat down at the table and grabbed another slice of bread from the dish.

After placing the pot of hearty stew in the center of the table, the captain sat down.  They had all just about gotten their stew dished out when the tones sounded.

“Station Fifty-One, fire in a dumpster, Von’s Market, Thirteen - Three - Twenty-Five Valley.  One - three - three - two - five Valley.  Cross street:  Baldwin Park.  Time out, eighteen - ten.”

“Station Fifty-One, K-M-G, Three, Six, Five.”

Dinner, once again pushed aside, would have to wait.  With a wail of sirens, they roared out of the station to answer the call. 

********

Poking at the logs in the fireplace, Kell stirred up the fire as Dixie came into the room with steaming mugs of hot chocolate.

“Be careful, it’s hot,” she said, handing Kevin a mug.  Certain that Kelsie had heard her remind Kevin to be careful, she nevertheless signed, “Careful, it’s hot,” to Kelsie as she handed her wide-eyed daughter a mug of the chocolate drink. 

Turning away from the fire, Kell was a bit surprised to discover that the children were both drinking their chocolate without a hint of hesitation.

Laughing softly at his puzzlement, Dixie handed him a mug.  “I put extra milk in theirs . . . . . . . . it cools the hot chocolate.”

“Mothers,” he said in fond amazement as he sat down on the loveseat in front of the fire with his hot chocolate.

“Daddy?”

“Yes, Son?” he said, picking him up and settling him on his lap.

“Can we make another snowman tomorrow?”  Kevin yawned, his eyelids heavy and his eyes drowsy with sleep.

Content, Kell laughed softly as he tousled his son’s dark hair.  “Sure,” he said happily, “if you want.  Think Kelsie will help us?”

Kevin shook his head, solemnly answering, “Nope.  She likes t’ make snow angels with Mommie,” as he snuggled into a hug.  

“Maybe we should make snow angels with Mommie and Kelsie and then they can make a snowman with us,” Kell suggested as he snuggled with Kevin.  “What would you think about that?”

“OK, Daddy, let’s do that!” he pronounced with all his four-year-old seriousness as Dixie ushered the twins off to bed.

******** 

“Excuse me, Miss McCall?”

Dixie looked up.  “Hi, Ginger.  What’s up?” she asked as she came around the counter.

“Rita says something’s wrong with Kevin and Kelsie.  She said I should bring them down here . . . . . . . .”

“What’s wrong, Sweetheart?” she asked Kevin as she reached over to take him from Ginger’s arms.  “Let’s go in here,” she said, taking the children into treatment room five.  Noticing Ginger’s flushed complexion, she asked, “Are you OK, Ginger?”  

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she said.  “But all the kids are fussy this after-noon.  If you can handle it, I need to get back and help Rita.”

“Sure, go ahead,” said Dixie.  “Thanks,” she added as she sat Kevin down on the examination table.  Picking Kelsie up, she went to the phone and dialed the admitting desk.  “Carol, could you please page Joe Early?” she requested.  “Ask him to come to treatment room five.”  Concluding the conversation, she said, “Thanks,” and hung up the phone.  Returning to the examination table, she sat Kelsie down next to Kevin and, while waiting for Joe to arrive, she stood there, talking quietly to the twins and signing to Kelsie as she tried to stifle her concern.

Hearing the door open, Dixie said, “Rita sent Kevin and Kelsie down,” adding, “she says there’s something the matter with them,” as she turned around.  To her surprise, Adam Mitchell was standing in the treatment room doorway.  Dixie had found him to be a gifted diagnostician; nevertheless, her initial experience with the doctor caused her to feel uncomfortable around him.  She was certain he’d take good care of the twins, but his presence made her feel as if she was on the defensive.

Silently, shaking his head, he walked over to the examination table.  Dixie told Kevin, “I love you,” and signed it to Kelsie as she stepped back and walked around to the other side of the examination table.  Pausing in his examination of the children, he looked over at her as he muttered, “Some nurse . . . . . . . .”

Unnerved, she remained silent, concerned for the children and determined to let nothing interfere with their care.  Talking softly, she signed to Kelsie that the doctor would care for them. 

“She’s deaf?”

“No,” Dixie answered as she stood beside the twins, fretting.  Already feeling ill-at-ease, she decided against offering any sort of an explanation, unless it became absolutely necessary, lest it draw her into a prolonged dialogue with this doctor.  She had no doubt that she’d find any sort of a discussion with Doctor Mitchell to be something much less than a sought-after experience and she had absolutely no desire to be placed on the defensive by him yet again in regard to her children.

Kelsie stared at Doctor Mitchell, solemn-eyed and silent.  Kevin, holding her hand, said something in their private singsong; she continued to hold his hand but gave no outward indication of having heard him.  Looking at them intently, the doctor threw Dixie an exasperated glance and frowned ominously. 

“Hi, Betty,” said Kell cheerfully as he and Joe came up to the counter at the nurses’ station.  “Dixie on a coffee break?”

“Oh, Doctor Early,” said Betty, somewhat confounded.  “Carol was looking for you a few minutes ago.  Dixie wanted you in treatment five.”  In answer to Kell’s query, she added, “I guess she’s still in five.”  As an afterthought, she told Joe, “I think Carol asked Doctor Mitchell to handle it . . . . . . . .”

Turning away from the counter, the two doctors exchanged a quick glance as they hurried toward the treatment room.

“What’d you do this time?” he asked Dixie brusquely, his dislike plainly evident.  “Or not do?”

“Nothing,” she replied, swallowing hard and fighting to keep her anger in check.  As Joe and Kell came through the door, she was saying, “Rita sent them down from the Child Care Center . . . . . . . .”  Blinking fast to dispel any tears, she reached out to take hold of Kevin’s hand.  Doctor Mitchell gave her a sharp look, but refrained from making any further comments.

Kell walked around the table to stand next to Dixie while Joe said, “I’ll handle this, Doctor; why don’t you see if Mike needs help?” as he stepped over to examine the children.  Glaring, Doctor Mitchell turned away and stalked out, muttering.

“What’ve we got, Dix?” Kell inquired softly as he put his arm around her shoulders.

“Rita had Ginger bring them down a little while ago.  She said something was wrong . . . . . . . .”  After a moment, Dixie added, “Ginger said that for some reason, all of the children up there were fussy . . . . . . . .”

Betty knocked on the door and came in.  “Most of the kids in the Child Care Center are sick,” she reported with a sigh.  “Maintenance says there’s some sort of gas leak up there.”   

“Call pediatrics and have them get some help over there.  And send some of our volunteers and attendants up to assist, too,” Kell directed as Joe continued treating the twins.  “Tell them we’re available down here as well, if they need us,” he added.

“I think they’re fine,” Joe said as Kelsie reached up to give him a hug.  “We’ll keep an eye on them for a little while, but I don’t see anything for you to worry about.”  He hugged his god-daughter as he smiled at Dixie, who was visibly relieved.

Sighing, Kell pulled Dixie into a hug.  Some days were just too full of frustration.  But at least the children would be all right.

********

Kell and Dixie came out of the treatment room with the twins, who were looking much perkier than when Ginger had brought them down.  Aside from Joe at the base station, the area was deserted.  Surprised, Dixie sat down on the stool behind the counter so that she could hold Kevin on her lap.     

“Do you have vitals, Squad Twenty-Four?” asked Joe.

Kell, still holding Kelsie, looked up as Joe walked over from the base station.  “What’ve you got?” he asked.

“Looks like a fragmented femur,” he said, worry filling his voice.

“Immobilize.” 

Stunned, Kell nearly dropped his daughter.  “What?”  He stared at her.  “How did you know that?” he said in befuddlement.     

Wide-eyed, she looked at him.  She squirmed to get out of his arms, and ran over by Kevin as soon as Kell had put her down. 

“Kelsie wants t’ know . . . . . . . . is that wrong?” Kevin asked.

“No-o-o,” he answered slowly.  “That’s right.”  It occurred to him, then, that she had actually spoken --- his daughter, who, until this moment, had not said one word to anyone.  Ever.  He looked to Dixie for an explanation, but she, too, seemed to be staggered.  Were they dreaming?  Had he imagined it?

“Transport as soon as possible,” said Joe as he concluded the call.  Leaving the base station, he walked over to the counter and took hold of Kelsie’s hand.  “How did you know that?” he asked her softly as he bent over and kissed her cheek.

“She knows it from looking at all of Daddy’s books ’n stuff,” Kevin replied in quintessential innocence. 

“And she remembered that?”

“She always ’members everything in Daddy’s books,” Uncle Joe,” Kevin matter-of-factly bragged as he held her hand.   

“But she’s four . . . . . . . . she doesn’t even go to school yet,” Dixie observed in confusion as Kell moved to her side and put his arm around her shoulders.  She looked at him in puzzlement as she queried, “How can she possibly know about . . . . . . . .” 

Joe knelt down beside the twins.  “Kelsie, how do you know about fractures?” he asked softly, still holding onto her hand.

“In Daddy’s book . . . . . . . . page . . . . . . . . thirty-two . . . . . . . .”

“Do you know what ‘immobilize’ means?” Joe interrupted. 

“To keep from moving,” she replied without hesitation.  Joe was silent.  “Right?” she inveigled, a solemn look in her dark eyes.

Joe nodded as he smiled at her.  “Did you find out about that in one of your Daddy’s books, too?”

She continued looking at him, solemn-eyed and silent.

Giving her a hug, Joe looked at Kell and Dixie.  “Well, I guess that pretty much answers all of the questions about what’s been keeping her mind occupied all this time . . . . . . . .”

Dixie was dumfounded.  “But, how can she possibly understand . . . . . . . . how can she know . . . . . . . .?”

“I’m not sure,” Joe said, “but I think you’d better plan on having another doctor in your family.  Looks to me like Kelsie’s already decided that!”

Lost in thought, Dixie looked at the children.  After a time, she whispered, “I knew you understood!” as she reached over and brushed her hand across Kelsie’s cheek.  Kelsie just smiled.

********

It took them a while and more than a few specialists before they finally got the gist of an explanation.  And it worried Dixie, who could see all sorts of difficulties ahead for Kelsie, but she also realized that it would be some time before they began to have any real insight into exactly what it was they were facing.  In the meantime, they’d just have to muddle along, doing all they could to shelter her from the vicissitudes of the world.

“It’s just so incredible,” she was saying to Joe.  “All this time, all those books she’s been looking at, she wasn’t ‘just looking’ at all!  Somehow, she taught herself to read . . . . . . . . and they say she actually remembers every single thing she reads.  Every word, even where it’s written on the page, like she was looking at a photograph of it in her mind.”

“But she’s only beginning to develop the skill to sort out all those things and relate them,” Kell added.  “They said she’s developing a system of storing all this stuff in her mind somehow and she’ll become more adept at being able to use it as she gets older.”  After a bit of reflection, he added, “I can’t even begin to guess what it’s going to be like once that happens!”

“Phew,” Joe sighed with a shake of his head.  After a moment, he chuckled, “You two sure don’t believe in having everyday, normal, run-of-the-mill problems, do you?!” 

Kell grinned sheepishly as he glanced across the office at Dixie and threw her a smile.  No, he supposed they hadn’t really had “everyday” problems.  On the other hand, he thought to himself, at least the problems in their life together all seemed to have worked out and, when it came right down to it, both he and Dixie knew they could always count on having each other.  Somehow, that was enough for him, just knowing that and being able to count on having Dixie and the twins in his life.  There really wasn’t anything more to ask for . . . . . . . . and absolutely nothing more that he could possibly want . . . . . . . .

“Kell?”

“Hhhmmmm . . . . . . . . what?  Sorry . . . . . . . . I was just thinking,” Kell apologized to Joe.  “What did you say?”

Joe chuckled.  “I was just wondering if they had any ideas or said anything about her not talking . . . . . . . .”

“Not specifically,” he replied.  “But there’s so much we didn’t really discuss with them.”  After a moment, he pensively added, “Maybe it’s true, after all.”

“What’s true?” Joe asked.

“That ignorance really is bliss . . . . . . . .”

Joe and Dixie both laughed.  “Maybe it is,” chuckled Joe, “but I have a feeling you’ll be much better off knowing something about it.  In fact, I’d bet this will turn out to be a case of ‘the more you know, the better it is,’ if you know what I mean!”

“I suppose so,” Kell said dubiously.  “But it’s not like there are lots of people who find themselves in this sort of a situation.  So who do you ask about things like schools?  After all . . . . . . . .”

“Sheesh!” Dixie interrupted his musings with quiet laughter.  “Honestly, you two really are looking for something to worry about, aren’t you?  Well, you might as well know that, for right now, absolutely nothing has changed and we’re not doing one single thing any differently than we have been.  The twins are staying right where they are in the Child Care Center with Rita.  End - of - discussion.”  She looked at the two men sternly as she stood and smoothed her dress.  “C’mon, let’s get some lunch.”

Kell and Joe looked at each other, shaking their heads.

“Let’s go!” Dixie repeated, opening the door.  Exchanging smiles, the two doctors followed her out of the office.

********

The cafeteria was packed, much more so than was usual for a late lunchtime in the middle of the week.  They found a table in the far corner and settled down to eat their sandwiches.  Kell and Joe had fallen into a discussion about a case they had seen earlier in the day and Dixie found herself once again grateful for the very special friend that Joe Early was . . . . . . . . much more than a friend, really --- more like part of their family . . . . . . . . and he loved the twins almost as much as they did.

“Now who’s lost in thought?” teased Kell as he gently tapped her on the shoulder. 

“Sorry,” she smiled sheepishly.  “What?”

“What were the results of the lab tests for the diabetic coma patient Forty-Five brought in this morning?” Joe asked her once more, a smile playing in the corners of his mouth.

“I don’t have any idea,” she replied, taking a bite of her sandwich.  “Doctor Mitchell got them,” she said carefully, sipping her coffee, “and he certainly didn’t share them with me!”

Kell sighed in exasperation.  Still not convinced that Adam Mitchell was more help than hindrance, he realized that time had run out.  After lunch, the next item on the agenda would have to be a serious discussion with his newest staff doctor. 

********

“Sit down,” Kell said, indicating the chair in front of the desk. 

Scowling, Adam Mitchell sat.  “What’s the trouble?” he asked dourly.

“How are things going?” Kell asked conversationally.

“Fine . . . . . . . . no problem . . . . . . . . no problems at all.”  He glared at Kell.  “Anything else you’d like to know?”

Heaving a sigh, Kell jumped into the heart of the predicament.  “You seem to have quite a chip on your shoulder, Doctor,” he began.  “You’re antagonistic and arrogant with everyone around here, including the patients.”  He paused, expecting some sort of response, but the doctor was silent.  “What seems to be the problem?” he finally asked.

“I don’t have a problem,” the doctor replied hotly.  “People do stupid things, like Joe Early’s friend, and then everyone around here gets all fired up because I call it like it is!”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, there’s that discombobulated nurse,” he began.

“What discombobulated nurse?”

“The one with the twins . . . . . . . . McCall?”

With a weary, “Humph,” Kell shook his head in disbelief.  He and Dixie were assiduous about keeping their personal lives separate from their professional ones at Rampart, but this doctor’s unawareness was just beyond him.  Sighing, he asked, “What seems to be your problem with Miss McCall, Doctor?”

“I don’t have a problem with her,” he replied.  “I haven’t worked with her all that much, but she seems to be competent enough --- for a nurse . . . . . . . .” 

Kell didn’t miss the sarcasm in the doctor’s voice.  “But?”

“Well, she’s much too indulgent with patients --- like when we had those gang-bangers in here,” he observed.  After a pause, he said, “It really upsets me that she doesn’t seem to be able to take proper care of her own children, yet everyone around here just pretends not to notice and ignores the problem!”

“Maybe no one else sees any problem,” Kell suggested. 

“No, you wouldn’t,” he muttered.

“And what exactly is that supposed to mean?” Kell demanded as he tried to keep his anger at bay.

“Look,” Adam began, trying to backpedal.  “I don’t have to like everyone that I work with . . . . . . . .”

“No, but you have to treat them with respect,” Kell interrupted.  “Just like the patients.”

“I know,” Adam said, a touch of arrogance creeping back into his voice.  “Just give them medical help.  I am not their judge or the jury,” he intoned.  “I’ve heard that speech already.”

“It doesn’t seem to have made an impression on you, though.”

Adam remained silent as Kell tried to curb his growing anger.

“Look, Doctor,” said Adam suddenly, “if you want to have favorites and ignore things that go on around here, that’s fine with me.  But don’t expect me to ignore the problems or look the other way --- even if it involves someone on the staff.” 

“The only problem I see right now is your attitude, Doctor.”

Adam glared at him but said nothing more. 

“Perhaps this is not the best place for you to work,” suggested Kell.  “I can see about a transfer to another department in the hospital,” he offered.

‘Do whatever you want,” muttered Adam, rising and heading for the door.  “You think you’re so perfect . . . . . . . .”  The rest of his comments were lost in the slam of the door. 

Kell sighed. 

********

“Doctor, there’s an injured child up in the kindergarten room in the Child Care Center.  They need you up there right away,” Betty said.  As Adam glowered at her, she apologized, “There’s no one else to send.”  With a shrug, she returned to the nurses’ station as Adam scowled and headed for the elevator. 

Dixie slammed the locker closed.  Having reached the end of her shift, she’d changed into jeans before going up to get the twins.  She didn’t often take the time to change when she was picking up the twins, but she had some errands to run today and preferred not to do them in her uniform.  Gathering up her purse and jacket, she headed up to the Child Care Center.

Rampart’s Child Care Center occupied several rooms on the third floor of the hospital.  Infants were cared for in a specially equipped baby room; three other rooms, each complete with their own kitchen and bathrooms, served the needs of the toddlers, kindergartners, and older school-age children.   

“What seems to be the problem?” Adam demanded as he came into the kindergarten room of the Center.  He glanced around, noticing that most of the dozen or so children in the room were sitting in the library corner listening to a story.

Rita looked up from where she was kneeling beside the injured child in the kitchen doorway.  “Oh, Doctor, thank goodness,” she said.  “Jessica slipped and fell.  We didn’t want to move her until someone looked at her.”

Adam knelt down beside the child.  “Did she hit her head?”

“No, I don’t think so; she slammed her arm into the cabinet.”

“How old is she?” he asked.

“She’ll be six next week,” Rita replied.

As he continued his examination of the girl, Adam Mitchell found himself once again annoyed at the negligent care a child had received.  Why was it that no one was watching her?  How could this have happened if those in charge were responsible?  He shook his head as unbidden memories of that day surfaced, but his anger had already begun to surge.

“Why was she in here?” he asked brusquely.

“She came in to get some water,” Rita replied hesitantly. 

“And no one was watching her?” he angrily demanded. 

“We always watch the children!  It was an accident!” she retorted, her usually calm temper flaring.  They were all proud of how well the children in their charge were cared for and she resented the doctor’s implication that they had been careless.

“You may go now,” he said harshly.  “I’ll take care of her.”

Upset, Rita left the kitchen.  She paused to watch the children, who were giggling as Ginger read to them about the antics of Curious George.  Pushing her distress aside, she headed back toward her desk and the stack of work waiting there for her.

“Hi, Rita,” Dixie said cheerfully as she came through the door. 

“Hi, Dixie,” Rita responded, still fretting.  “Can you wait just a minute?  Ginger’s just finishing up a story with the children.”

“Sure.”  Dixie turned toward the Center’s library area where Ginger was sitting on the floor reading to the children.  She watched the children with delight, a smile playing across her face.  She had no problem spotting Kevin and Kelsie in the group.  Still small for their age, they both had their father’s dark hair and eyes, and, as always, were sitting together, holding hands.  The twins loved having someone read to them; at home at night she’d hear Kevin giggling when Kell read them some funny bedtime story.  Bedtime stories had become some-what of a ritual for the three of them and Dixie knew full well just how much Kell treasured that special time with his children.

Ginger was just finishing the story when a peculiar popping sound filled the air and the lights flickered.  A moment later a loud bang accompanied the turning upside down of the room. 

Sounds of children screaming filled her ears as Dixie fought to keep her balance.  The floor tilted crazily and she slammed into the wall, but somehow managed to keep her footing.  The lights had flickered out, leaving the room in the late afternoon greyness of the approaching sunset.  Dixie realized the children were crying and, pushing herself away from the wall, she clambering around the toppled desk, only to discover that Rita was pinned under it.  With some difficulty, she managed to lift the desk and sidle it aside just enough to free Rita.  Bending down beside the unconscious woman, Dixie swiftly evaluated her condition and determined that, while she was not immediate danger, she would need treatment soon.

Heading over to the library area, she found that Ginger was gathering the children around her and settling them down.  “Are you hurt?” she asked.  “What about the children?” 

“The children are fine, just scared some,” she replied.  “My leg’s caught under this bookcase.  But if I don’t move . . . . . . . .”

“Let’s see what we can do,” said Dixie, grabbing the edge of the weighty bookcase.  She tried to lift it, but found it was more cumbersome than the desk and a great deal less cooperative. 

“It’s OK,” said Ginger gamely.  “I’ll be all right . . . . . . . .”

“Can you . . . . . . . . pull your leg . . . . . . . . free . . . . . . . . now?” Dixie gasped as she managed to lift the unwieldy bookcase a slight bit.

“I . . . . . . . . think so,” mumbled Ginger, working to move her injured leg.   “There!”  After a moment, in a frightened voice, she added, “I sure hope it will be OK.”

With a grunt of relief, Dixie let the heavy bookcase drop back to the floor.  Moving around to Ginger’s side, she knelt down to examine the leg.  Not wanting to alarm the woman, she said, “I think it might be fractured.  Why don’t we splint it, just in case?”

Ginger nodded and Dixie proceeded to immobilize her leg.  Assuring herself that Ginger would be fine, Dixie went back over to check on Rita.

As Dixie knelt down beside the injured woman, Rita’s eyes flickered open.  “In . . . . . . . . the . . . . . . . . kitchen . . . . . . . .” Rita murmured, “Jessica . . . . . . . .”

“Don’t worry, Rita,” Dixie consoled, making the woman as comfortable as possible.  “I’ll check on her.” 

Moving to the kitchen, Dixie discovered that the refrigerator had toppled over.  Resigned to having to climb around the obstruction in order to reach the child, Dixie managed, with some small amount of difficulty, to get into the kitchen.

“Jessica?” she called out.  “Where are you?”

“Over here!” called a male voice.  Flabbergasted, Dixie turned toward the voice.

“Doctor Mitchell!” she exclaimed in surprise as she continued looking around the kitchen for Jessica.  “Are you all right?”

In the darkened room, Adam did not recognize her at first.  “My shoulder’s banged up, and I can’t get out of here!”

“Do you know where Jessica is?” she asked, unable to locate the child elsewhere in the room.

“Yeah,” he answered.  “She’s trapped back here with me.  I already took care of her arm . . . . . . . .”

Surveying the situation, Dixie shook her head.  “There’s no way I can move this refrigerator,” she interrupted, “but maybe I can get back there and take a look at your shoulder.” 

Grueling exertion yielded hard-earned success; she managed to clamber around the refrigerator, only to have Adam offer a disgruntled, “Wouldn’t you know it?  How could I be so lucky?”

“Sorry to disappoint you, Doctor,” she rejoined, definitely not in the mood for his acerbic attitude.  “Right now, I’m the only help you’ve got, so I guess you’ll just have to deal with it!”  

Determining that Adam’s shoulder was dislocated, she scouted around, gathering up the first aid kit and some assorted miscellany, and set about immobilizing the doctor’s shoulder.  That done, she worked her way back into the main room after assuring herself that the two trapped people would be all right.

Shaking her head, Dixie took stock of the situation.  Rita, now lapsed back into unconsciousness, was stable for the moment.  Propped up against the wall with her leg splinted, Ginger was gamely reading to the small group of children.  Dixie smiled, admiring her gutsy-ness.  Adam, still trapped by the toppled refrigerator but with his dislocated shoulder immobilized, was in no immediate danger.  Jessica’s sprained arm had been treated and none of the other children seemed to be injured. 

The door was jammed, the phone line dead.  All Dixie had to do now was to watch over the seriously injured Rita, keep an eye on Ginger and Adam, and keep the children calm.  “A piece of cake,” she told herself in an effort to convince the small, worried voice inside her that she could handle it alone.  The only thing she was certain of was that, for the moment, she was the only help available for all those trapped here with her.

********

“Station Fifty-One, explosion, third floor, Rampart General Hospital.  Cause unknown.  People trapped.  One Thousand West Carson.  One - zero - zero - zero West Carson.  Cross street:  Central.  Time out, sixteen - forty-seven.”

“Station Fifty-One, K-M-G, Three, Six, Five.”

Sirens wailing, the men of Station Fifty-One raced out into the late afternoon dusk, heading toward the hospital. 

When they arrived, they found a maintenance crew already working its way through the pile of rubble, trying to reach the door of the Child Care Center.  The firemen navigated their way through a knot of hospital staff standing around, waiting to assist once they were able to enter the Center. 

“What happened?” barked Captain Stanley.

“Oxygen bottles in the storage room burst,” responded one of the men.  “There are kids in here,” he went on, indicating the room behind the pile of rubble that was blocking their way.  “We need to get in there!”

As the firemen pitched in, Jeff, the head of maintenance, warned, “Be careful!  Several of the support beams in this area are cracked and this whole hallway wall could just collapse.”

“Let’s get all these people out of here,” commanded the captain.  “Everybody out!”  He began moving the hospital staff back to a safer area.  “We’ll get them out to you as soon as we can,” he said.  “Please, wait back here.”

No one had any idea how much damage had been done to the Center or how badly the people inside might be injured.  For now, the growing crowd of hospital staff, including a frantic Kelly Brackett, could do nothing but wait . . . . . . . . and hope.

It had gotten too dark in the room for Ginger to continue reading, and the children were becoming fussy.  Dixie, having checked once more on Rita, Ginger, and Adam, gathered the children around and settled down with them on the floor.  It was too dark for her to sign to Kelsie, so she took hold of her hand.  With no idea of how long it would take for them to be rescued, Dixie decided to try and distract the children and she began to sing a song she had heard the children sing before: 

I went to the animal fair
All the birds and the beasts were there
The big baboon

By the light of the moon
Was combing his auburn hair
You should have seen the monk
He sat on the elephant's trunk
The elephant sneezed

And fell on his knees
And what became of the monk
The monk

The monk

The monk
The monk

The monk

The monk

By the time they reached the end of the song, the children had stopped fussing and, except for Kelsie, were singing along.  Dixie was relieved, but she knew the singing would only be a stopgap measure.  She hoped their rescuers would arrive soon.

In the kitchen, Adam listened with amazement.  Somehow she had managed to take care of all the injuries --- including his shoulder --- and now she had a roomful of youngsters laughing and singing.  “Maybe,” he thought to himself, “I missed something here.”  Making sure Jessica was comfortable, he settled back as well as his injured shoulder would allow and listened.

Wracking her brain for additional songs that would amuse the children, Dixie settled on another traditional children’s song and began to sing:

There was a farmer had a dog
And Bingo was his name-o
B-I-N-G-O . . . . . . . . B-I-N-G-O . . . . . . . . B-I-N-G-O
And Bingo was his name-o
There was a farmer had a dog
And Bingo was his name-o
. . . . . . . . I-N-G-O . . . . . . . . I-N-G-O . . . . . . . . I-N-G-O
And Bingo was his name-o
There was a farmer had a dog
And Bingo was his name-o
. . . . . . . . . . . . N-G-O . . . . . . . . N-G-O . . . . . . . . N-G-O
And Bingo was his name-o!
There was a farmer had a dog
And Bingo was his name-o
. . . . . . . . G-O . . . . . . . . G-O . . . . . . . . G-O
And Bingo was his name-o
There was a farmer had a dog
And Bingo was his name-o
. . . . . . . . O . . . . . . . . O . . . . . . . . O
And Bingo was his name-o
There was a farmer had a dog
And Bingo was his name-o

. . . . . . . . - . . . . . . . . - . . . . . . . .
And Bingo was his name-o

Delighted, the children sang along, putting their handclaps in all the proper places, and by the time they reached the end of the song, they were smiling and giggling again, their fears momentarily forgotten.  Dixie hoped it would last. 

“Can we do the spider song now?  Please?” begged Sylvia.

“Sure!” responded Dixie at once.  “Would you like to start it?”

Grinning, Sylvia began to sing, and the children joined in:

The itsy bitsy spider climbed up the waterspout
Down came the rain and washed the spider out
Out came the sun and dried up all the rain
And the itsy bitsy spider climbed up the spout again
The itsy bitsy spider climbed up the kitchen wall
’Swoosh’ went the fan and made the spider fall
Off went the fan, no longer did it blow
So the itsy bitsy spider back up the wall did go
The itsy bitsy spider climbed up the yellow pail
In came a mouse and flicked her with his tail
Down fell the spider; the mouse ran out the door
Then the itsy bitsy spider climbed up the pail once more
The itsy bitsy spider climbed up the rocking chair
Up jumped a cat and knocked her in the air
Down plopped the cat and when he was asleep
The itsy bitsy spider back up the chair did creep
The itsy bitsy spider climbed up the maple tree
She slipped on some dew and landed next to me
Out came the sun and when the tree was dry
The itsy bitsy spider gave it one more try
The itsy bitsy spider climbed up without a stop
She spun a silky web right at the very top
She wove and she spun and when her web was done
The itsy bitsy spider rested in the sun

Adam listened as Jessica sang along with the other children.  Finding himself in the unusual position of being forced to re-think his previous assessment, he now concluded that his initial judgment might have been somewhat flawed and he decided that perhaps he ought to take the time to sit down and talk with this nurse once they were out of here.  In reality, she was turning out not to match his original opinion at all.

Frightened by the dark, the fretting children began to revert to their restlessness.  Dixie could hear the pounding outside and hoped it wouldn’t be too much longer before help reached them.  Extending her arms, she gathered all the children in close to her as she talked softly to them, trying to allay their fears.  As the children settled down, she softly began to sing:

A gentle breeze

From Hushabye Mountain
Softly blows

O'er Lullaby Bay
It fills the sails

Of boats that are waiting
Waiting to sail

Your worries away

It isn't far

To Hushabye Mountain
And your boat

Waits down by the key
The winds of night

So softly are sighing
Soon they will fly

Your worries to sea
So close your eyes

On Hushabye Mountain
Wave good-bye

To cares of the day
And watch your boat

From Hushabye Mountain
Sail far away

From Lullaby Bay

Watch your boat

From Hushabye Mountain

Sail far away

From Lullaby Bay

As she sang, the children huddled close to her.  When the last notes of the song faded away, the children had snuggled around her for comfort in the dark; seeking to keep them calm and safe, she wordlessly hummed the tune of gentle little song. 

A loud thud, accompanied by shouting, announced the arrival of help.  Heaving a sigh of relief, she looked up as Roy and Johnny pushed through the doorway.

Quickly Dixie filled the two paramedics in on the situation and they set about handing the children out.  Then Rita and Ginger were taken out and they turned their attention to the problem of the trapped doctor and child behind the refrigerator.   

Roy hollered out for some assistance; Chet Kelly and Mike Stoker arrived almost at once.  Working together, they managed to move the refrigerator and extricate the two trapped victims. 

“Phew,” sighed Dixie as Adam was taken out.  “You two certainly are a sight for sore eyes!”

“Well,” said Roy, “now that we’ve gotten everyone else out, are you ready to go?”

“You’d better believe it!” Dixie exclaimed.

“Then let’s get out of here!”

“That’s the best idea I’ve heard today!” Dixie remarked as the two paramedics, Roy ahead of her and Johnny behind her, helped her negotiate a rubble pile still partially blocking the doorway.  Together they picked their way over the debris and followed the others toward their waiting families, friends, and colleagues.

********

“When will Mommie be here?” Kevin asked for the tenth time in as many minutes.

“As soon as everyone gets out,” Kell patiently replied.  “Watch that doorway,” he added, pointing.  “She’ll come right through there.” 

Kell chuckled to himself as Kevin glued his eyes to the doorway.  He was holding Kelsie on his lap and Kevin was sitting next to him on Joe Early’s lap.  Like the rest of the staff, they were waiting for the firemen to get everyone out of the Child Care Center.  Most of the children had been claimed by their parents and taken into the Pediatrics playroom.  Everyone was almost exuberant --- this could have been a horrible disaster, but it looked as if they had lucked out and everyone was going to be just fine.  Rita had been the most seriously injured, and Mike Morton was already caring for her.   

Kelsie squirmed on his lap until she, too, was facing the doorway.  Kell leaned over to sign, “Don’t worry, Cupcake,” to her; she fairly beamed at his use of his pet name for her.  She still spoke only seldom, but Kell was no longer as worried about her as he had been before.  In actuality, he’d only traded one sort of worry for another, but this new worry had a lot more happiness behind it than the old one had had.  He signed, “I love you,” to her and she wrapped her arms around his neck, causing him to grin as he hugged her back.  

Joe was proud of how well his friend was handling this latest crisis.  In earlier times, he would have counted on Kell losing his temper.  But, since Dixie and the twins . . . . . . . .  He counted Dixie among his dearest of friends and he was all-too-well aware of just how much change she’d brought to Kell’s life.  He’d seen the difference she’d made in him, balancing his medical gifts with a sense of patience and understanding that he’d not been able to find in himself without her.  She had brought him a calmness born of true peace and happiness, a sense of completeness.  Perhaps more than anyone else, he recognized the depth of their feelings for each other . . . . . . . .

“Mommie!  Mommie!”

Kell reached out, grabbing hold of his son as he leaped from Joe’s lap to keep him from running across the room.  The firemen were moving an injured man through the door and he knew they certainly didn’t need Kevin underfoot.  “Mommie will be right here, Son,” he soothed.  “You need to wait here for her.”  He had to admit, though, that he was just as thrilled and excited as Kevin to see Dixie with Roy and Johnny.  He’d gotten the message that she was all right, but sometimes it all just came down to seeing really is believing.

********

“How’re you feeling?” she asked quietly as she came to his bedside.

Adam turned his head.  She was the last person he had expected to see.  “Pretty fair,” he said with a small smile.  “Thanks for all you did.”

“No problem,” Dixie said with a little laugh.  “That’s what we nurses do, you know.”

“Is everyone all right?”

“Well, the Child Care Center is in pretty critical condition, but everyone else is doing just fine!” Dixie said with a twinkle in her eye.

The doctor took a deep breath.  “I saw your children . . . . . . . . outside . . . . . . . . I didn’t know Doctor Brackett was . . . . . . . . that they were . . . . . . . .” he stammered, his eyes avoiding hers.

Dixie was amazed that this bit of hospital gossip trivia had eluded him for so long.  Still looking at him, she shrugged, uncertain of what to say and not at all sure where this conversation was headed.

“Guess maybe I owe you an apology,” he offered after a long, uncomfortable pause.

“Why?” she quietly demanded, rolling her eyes upward so that she was not looking at him.  “Just because Kelly Brackett is their father?”

“No, no, not at all,” Adam answered.  “I just couldn’t believe it when you . . . . . . . . I mean, you were absolutely amazing . . . . . . . . with the children . . . . . . . . today . . . . . . . . in the Center . . . . . . . .”

She smiled diffidently.  “It’s no big deal.  It’s a mother thing.”  She sighed.  “Why do you dislike me so much?” she suddenly asked.

“I . . . . . . . . I don’t,” he mumbled.  “I . . . . . . . . it’s just . . . . . . . . when I first saw you . . . . . . . . when you came . . . . . . . . I thought . . . . . . . .”

“You thought I was the world’s worst mother,” she interrupted.  “Why?”

He sighed and, to her surprise, tears gathered in his eyes.  “I couldn’t see how they would have gotten hurt if you’d been watching them,” he began quietly.

“The little girl was seriously injured . . . . . . . .”

“I know,” he interrupted, “about Carmen and everything you did for her.”  He paused, then said, “I guess maybe I was wrong about you.”

Sensing there was more yet to come, she silently waited.

After a time, he whispered, “I had a . . . . . . . . daughter . . . . . . . . once.  Samantha.  She . . . . . . . . she was . . . . . . . . only six years old.” He paused, working to muster the strength for this recounting.  He had not talked of this for a very long time, too long a time, perhaps.  “She went . . . . . . . . to play . . . . . . . . at a friend’s house.  Just up the street a couple of doors.  I thought it would be all right . . . . . . . . but the mother . . . . . . . . went away and . . . . . . . . left them alone.”

Dixie had a sickening feeling she knew just where this was going.  Tears swam in her eyes.  Hesitantly, she reached out to gently take hold of his hand.

“There was an accident,” he went on.  “And she died.  Just like that.  They came . . . . . . . . and . . . . . . . . knocked . . . . . . . . on my front door . . . . . . . . asked . . . . . . . . was I Samantha’s father . . . . . . . . said . . . . . . . . she . . . . . . . . was . . . . . . . . dead.” 

“I’m so very sorry,” she said as her tears spilled over.

“I don’t ever want that to happen to another child . . . . . . . . to another parent . . . . . . . . to another family,” he said after a time.  “You just can’t imagine . . . . . . . .”  He let the thought drop, drifting off into soundless remembering. 

She stood there, silent, overwhelmed with his grief.  She knew all too well the pain of losing a child.  Not precisely in this way, perhaps, but a child lost nevertheless.  And she understood a parent’s wrenching fear of something happening to their child.  She’d already walked a path much too similar to this one, and deep in her heart and soul she knew that the pain it had wreaked was exactly the same.

He turned his head away, struggling to control the tears that threatened to fall once more.  He’d cried so much already; it often astounded him that there were any tears left in him at all.

There were no words with which she could console him.  She stood, mutely offering him the only thing she had --- her understanding.

“I’m sorry,” he said to her at last as he turned his head back and looked into her eyes.  “I misjudged you, and I’m sorry.”

“Thank you, Doctor Mitchell.”  Her eyes glistened behind a sea of un- spilled tears.  There had already been more than enough recrimina-tions.  Now it was time to move past them; it was time to heal.

“Adam,” he corrected softly.  “Could you please call me Adam?”

“Adam,” she said softly, with a smile.  After a moment, she sighed and added, “I should get out of here and let you get some rest.” 

“Thanks for coming,” he said gratefully.  “I really mean it.  Thanks.”

She smiled.  “I’ll stop in tomorrow.” 

********

“It’s so sad,” she added, snuggling into his embrace as they lay together in bed.  “It explains an awful lot about his attitude and his arrogant manner,” she went on.  “He’s such a good doctor . . . . . . . . I hope he can work it out . . . . . . . .”

Kell kissed the top of her head and smiled at her.  “And if he can’t do it on his own, a certain head nurse I know will find a way to help him.  Right?”

She laughed lightly.  “Oh, you know me much too well, Doctor!” she teased.  Once, earlier in their relationship, she had fretted over having someone know her so well, and being so important to her; several years of marriage to Kell had erased that worry, replacing it with a sense of comfort and belonging.  Sometimes it was as if they were enmeshed, becoming dixieandkell, all one word, an amalgamation of Dixie and Kell, and she was rather surprised to discover that she had not lost any bit of herself in the merger --- but had unexpectedly found a special joy she had never even dreamed existed.      

Kell sighed and tightened his arms around her, bringing her thoughts back to this time and place.  She brushed his cheek with a gentle kiss.  “You’re special,” she murmured.

“Where did that come from?” he teased softly with a kiss of his own.  Hugging her tightly, he added, “You’re pretty special yourself, Love.”

“Do you suppose Adam will be able to find his way through this?”

Sighing, he reflected on the situation.  “I hope so.  It won’t be easy.”  After a few moments, as he drew her closer, he murmured, “Just goes to show --- you never really know.”  Like Dixie, he fully under-stood the pain . . . . . . . . and he knew that, while time helped, this was one of those things that would never fully go away.  It was not something he could even examine for very long, for it engendered too great a fear deep in his soul.  He supposed all parents, faced with the loss of their child, felt that, but it was one of those ‘I hope you never truly understand how it feels’ kind of things that you wouldn’t wish on anyone.  There were just some things in this world that no one should ever have to understand by way of personal experience and this particular agony surely fell into that category. 

“I love you,” Dixie whispered softly, giving him a kiss and breaking him away from the bleakness of the thought.

“I love you, too,” he replied, returning the kiss.  As they lay together, holding each other, a thought of thankfulness that she was part of his life flitted though his mind.  He had no doubt but that he was a better doctor, a better man, a better human being, because of her.  As he drifted off to sleep, he vowed that, in the morning, he would remember to tell her that . . . . . . . . and he would thank her for loving him. 

********************************

Song Notes for this Dixie McCall story:

Can’t Help Lovin’ That Man

Jerome Kern / Oscar Hammerstein

Chances Are

Allen / Stillman

How Long Has This Been Going On

George Gershwin / Ira Gershwin

As Time Goes By

Herman Hupfeld

Too Good To Be True

Clay Boland

Days Of Wine And Roses

Henry Mancini / Johnny Mercer

But Not For Me

George Gershwin / Ira Gershwin

I’m In The Mood For Love

Jimmy McHugh / Dorothy Fields

Too Good To Be True

Clay Boland

Animal Fair

Traditional Children’s Song

Bingo

Traditional Children’s Song

Itsy Bitsy Spider

Iza Trapani / Traditional Children’s Song

Hushabye Mountain [from the film Chitty Chitty Bang Bang]

Richard M. Sherman / Robert B. Sherman