shook his head. “At least I understand it now.”
“She never gave drugs to anybody, Hayes,” Sarah said softly. “She never even smoked marijuana when she was in high school. Her mother was a fanatic about drugs. She wouldn’t even take an aspirin tablet for a headache and she put that attitude into Minette. Never understood why,” she said on a sigh. “She was a curious woman. But I loved her dearly.”
“Did Minette’s father use drugs?” he wondered, averting his eyes.
“Well, I don’t know. I never actually met her father.” She flushed. “I mean, the man my niece, Faye, married—Minette’s stepfather—didn’t use them, ever.”
He was shocked. He hadn’t been aware that Sarah knew Minette’s stepfather wasn’t her biological father. He frowned. “Then you don’t know what her real father looked like?”
“Not really. My niece didn’t speak of him,” she said. “I wonder if he had brown eyes, though. It amazed me that my niece produced a girl with Minette’s coloring. Nobody in our whole family for generations ever had black eyes. They were always blue.”
Hayes didn’t look at her. “Genetics are odd.”
“I’ll say!” She lowered her voice. “You know, Minette’s mother married her stepfather when she was about six months pregnant. It was such a scandal!”
Hayes bit his lip. “Was it?”
“Yes! She said her new husband didn’t mind about the pregnancy, though, he loved children. They even told Minette, when she was ten, that Stan loved her very much but that he was her stepfather. I wondered if she ever really understood that. She never speaks of it, even to me.” She picked up the cup and saucer and fork, looking thoughtful. “Still, as you say, genetics are very odd. If you need anything, you use that,” she indicated the speakerphone beside the bed on the table. “And I’ll be right up.”
“Thanks, Sarah.”
She smiled. “You’re very welcome.” She hesitated at the door. “You won’t mention to Minette, that I said anything about her mother?” she worried.
“Of course I won’t,” he assured her. “Not a word.”
She nodded. “Thanks. She’s sensitive on the subject.”
He watched her go out the door with mingled emotions. So Sarah didn’t speak to Minette about her real father. Curious. They seemed close. But, then, you never knew really went on in families.
* * *
Minette showed up just after lunch with Shane and Julie, her little brother and sister, in tow. They ran into the room where Hayes was and jumped into bed with him, shoes and all. Shane was bigger than Julie, a rough and tumble eleven-year-old who loved wrestling and never missed a match that featured his favorites.
“No, kids, calm down! He’s been injured!” Minette said frantically. “And we don’t climb on beds with shoes on!”
“Sorry, Minette,” Julie said, pulling off her shoes and tossing them over the side.
“Me, too,” Shane agreed, doing the same.
They moved closer to Hayes, who was fascinated with their lack of fear. He was a stranger, mostly, whom they hardly knew.
“You’re gonna live with us,” Shane said. “You got shot, yeah?”
He chuckled. “I got shot.”
“What a mean thing to do,” Julie said solemnly. She moved right up to Hayes’s good arm and curled up next to him. “We’ll protect you, Hayes,” she said softly. “We won’t let anybody hurt you ever again.”
Hayes felt tears sting his eyes. He hid them, of course, but the child’s comment touched him as nothing had in years. His profession kept him bereft of visible emotion. He had to keep it in check, because he had to be strong. He’d seen things most people never had to look at. It affected him. Of course it did. So he buried his feelings deeper and deeper over the years, until he hardly felt anything. But he’d been shot and he was still fragile. Julie’s innocent offer to protect him made him melt inside.
“What a sweetheart you are,” Hayes said softly, and brushed back the child’s pretty blond hair.
She grinned at him and cuddled closer.
“Can we look at where you got shot?” Shane asked. “Is it awful?”
Hayes laughed. “Not a good idea. Yes, it is awful.”
“Who shot you?” Shane persisted.
“Someone very mean, and we’ll get him,” Hayes promised.
“You two come on with me. Aunt Sarah has cookies and milk!”
“Cookies and milk! Woohoo!” Shane cheered, bouncing on the bed.
“Stop that and come down here,” Minette said firmly, lifting him off the bed and onto the floor. “Oof, you’re getting heavy!” she exclaimed. “Go get cookies. And I think SpongeBob is on television.”
“Aw, Minette, that’s for little kids like Julie...” Something by the television had caught the boy’s attention. He picked up a DVD case and looked at it. “It’s How to Train Your Dragon!” he exclaimed. “He’s got How to Train Your Dragon!” He looked excitedly through the other cases. “There’s WALL-E and Up and...!”
“Yes, I love cartoons,” Hayes confessed with a faint flush.
“Me, too,” Minette said, smiling. “Those are great movies.”
“Can we come watch them with you after supper?” Shane pleaded. “Please?”
Hayes laughed at Minette’s consternation. “Sure,” he said. “Why not?”
“That’s very nice of you, Hayes,” Julie said in her soft, formal tone. “Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome.” He started to help her off the bed, but Minette was there first. “No lifting,” she told Hayes. “Copper Coltrain would let surgical interns practice on me if I dared let you pick up something as heavy as Julie.”
“But I’m not heavy, Minette,” Julie protested as she was placed gently on the floor.
“Not to me, precious,” Minette said, hugging her. “But Hayes has been shot. He can’t use his other arm yet.”
“That’s right. I’m sorry. I forgot.”
“Downstairs now, both of you,” Minette told the children.
“Yes, Minette,” Julie said.
They waved at Hayes and ran clamoring down the steps to the kitchen.
“Sorry,” Minette apologized. “They get a little wild.”
“It’s okay,” Hayes said with a genuine smile. “They’re great kids.”
