to IV tubes. Her color seemed improved, Anne Marie thought. When she walked in, Dolores opened her eyes.
“How are you feeling, Mrs. Falk?” she asked as she approached the side of the bed.
“I’m doing better. How’s Ellen?”
“She’s fine. Don’t worry about her.”
Tears welled in the older woman’s eyes. “I can’t thank you enough for taking my granddaughter. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t come.”
“I’m glad to help out.” Never mind that it wasn’t entirely true.
Dolores’s chest rose with a sigh. “The doctor says I’m going to need heart surgery.”
Anne Marie squeezed the woman’s hand. “They have excellent doctors here and—”
“I’m not worried for me,” Dolores said, cutting her off. “My only concern is Ellen.”
“You just concentrate on getting well. I have the number for Ellen’s aunt Clarisse and—”
“No!” Dolores cut her off again. Her fingers tightened on Anne Marie’s.
“She’s the emergency contact you gave the school. So I—”
“Clarisse is in prison.”
“Prison?” Anne Marie swallowed her gasp of shock.
“Fraud.” Dolores closed her eyes again, as if admitting this to Anne Marie embarrassed her. Anne Marie was sure it did.
“What about Ellen’s mother?”
Tears rolled from the corners of the woman’s eyes and fell onto the pillow that supported her head. “Her mother is a drug addict. The state of California took Ellen away from her when she was three years old. I’d lost contact with my daughter—I didn’t even know about Ellen. By the time I learned I had a granddaughter, Ellen had gone through a series of foster homes. It took me a year to get that child to sleep through the night. I won’t put her back in the system. I won’t do that to her.”
“Oh, dear…” Anne Marie said weakly. There didn’t seem to be an adequate response.
“Whatever happens to me, don’t let them put her in foster care.”
Her agitation grew and Anne Marie began to worry. “Promise me,” she pleaded. “Promise me.”
“Of course.” What else could she say?
Dolores relaxed a little after that.
“What about her father?”
Dolores shook her head grimly. “My daughter probably doesn’t even know who fathered this child.”
“Oh.”
“There’s no one else.”
“Perhaps her mother’s clean and sober now.” Anne Marie hated to sound desperate, but the options were dwindling fast.
“She’s not. Last year she rescinded all rights as Ellen’s mother.”
“Oh.” Anne Marie could feel what was coming. Dolores would ask her to watch Ellen while she was in the hospital. A rush of excuses, a dozen valid reasons she couldn’t do it, were on the tip of her tongue. She couldn’t make herself say them.
“That child is the only good thing I have in my life,” Dolores whispered brokenly. “My daughters have both chosen paths that led to spiritual and emotional ruin. I pray for them every day.”
“I’m sure you do, but—”
“I don’t understand where I went wrong. Their father left us twenty years ago, and I raised them alone. I tried to show them the right way…”
Anne Marie murmured a few comforting words, although she knew there was no comfort to be had.
“I’ve been a proud woman all my life,” Dolores continued. “I’ve never asked the government for help, even when I was entitled to.”
With her free hand Anne Marie gripped the steel bar along the side of the bed.
“I’m asking for your help now.”
Anne Marie swallowed. “But…I’m a stranger.”
“Ellen talks about you constantly. You and Baxter.” The faint hint of a smile came to her then.
Anne Marie was surprised she got a mention. She’d assumed the real attraction had been the dog. “But…I’m just her Lunch Buddy,” she murmured.
“You’re much more than that,” Dolores told her. “Please take my precious Ellen and look after her for me.”
“I…” Anne Marie didn’t know what to say. Her place wasn’t set up to take care of a child. She didn’t even have a real bed for Ellen. After living alone all these months—more than a year now—she wasn’t sure how she’d adjust to living with someone else. With a child.
At her obvious reluctance, Dolores said, “The doctor said once I have the surgery I should be good as new.”
“You’ll need recuperation time.” Mentally Anne Marie tried to calculate how long that might be. A week? Two? Maybe a month. She couldn’t possibly deal with this awkward situation for a whole month.
“Yes, I’ll need time to heal,” Dolores agreed, “but it’ll go much faster if I know Ellen is well taken care of.” She gazed up at Anne Marie with wide, imploring eyes. When Anne Marie didn’t immediately respond, Dolores added, “Please. I’m asking you from my heart. I’m begging you not to let them take my granddaughter away from me.”
Anne Marie couldn’t refuse. “All right,” she said, hoping she didn’t sound begrudging—or afraid.
Dolores released a huge sigh. “Thank you, Lord.” She pointed to the side table next to her bed. “I’ve written out a statement that gives you permission to see to any medical needs Ellen might have. I also wrote a statement authorizing you to keep Ellen while I’m in the hospital.”
An orderly stepped into the room. “Ready, Mrs. Falk?” he asked far too cheerfully.
“Where are you taking her?” Anne Marie asked.
The young man raised his eyebrows. “Surgery.”
“So soon?”
“I’ll be fine,” Dolores said. “Absolutely fine.”
Anne Marie felt dreadful; she should’ve been the one consoling the other woman.
“I’ll take care of Ellen,” she promised with a sense of desperation. “Just get well.”
The young man directed Anne Marie to the nurses’ station, where she was given a phone number to check on Dolores’s progress after the surgery. Anne
