JOCELINE was pacing the waiting room floor. She’d brought her knitting bag with her, but even that chore hadn’t diverted her. This had been a bad attack, the worst one yet. She’d tried to go into the cubicle with Markie, but the attending physician and a nurse had shooed her out in the kindest way possible. They needed to run tests, they explained.
It was hard to leave a child who sounded as if he were smothering to death. Joceline was beside herself. Markie was her whole life. What if he died this time? What if they couldn’t save him …?
“Joceline?”
She jumped and gasped at the sound of her boss’s voice behind her. She jerked around, astonished.
“It’s not like you,” he explained, “not to call, if you can’t make it to work. I figured it had to be something catastrophic.”
She bit her lower lip. “It’s Markie,” she said on a long breath. “A bad attack. The worst one he’s had yet.” She folded her arms over her small breasts. “They’re running tests.”
At least she had medical insurance, good insurance, from her job. But it wouldn’t cover all of the expense, and she didn’t know how she’d add another monthly payment to the bills she already had.
“What sort of attack?” Jon repeated. Her mind was busy. She hadn’t even heard him.
“He has asthma,” she said heavily. “In the spring and fall, colds go down into his chest. He has chest infections, sometimes pneumonia. There are new drugs, good ones, for his condition, and we use them. He has allergy shots every week, too. But his lungs are just weak. He’s never had an attack come on so quickly, or be this bad. I didn’t think I’d even get him here in time …” She bit her lip and turned away.
“Has he seen a specialist?”
“Yes. Lung specialists, allergists, the works.” She sighed. “I don’t even smoke,” she said plaintively.
He wondered how she managed to pay specialists. It would be rough for anyone, but especially for a single mother on a limited budget. He didn’t have to be told that a child with uncontrolled asthma was an expensive little person to treat. He’d had his own share of respiratory problems as a child, Cammy had once told him. He still had allergies, too.
Joceline looked worriedly at the door to the emergency room from which a white-coated physician with a stethoscope around his neck had just emerged.
“That’s Dr. Wagner,” she explained as she moved toward him. “He’s our family doctor.”
The tall, thin physician smiled as she approached. “It’s all right, Joceline, he’s doing very well. We’ll have the test results for you very soon. You have to stop worrying so much,” he added gently. “Odds are very good that he’ll outgrow the asthma, and that the allergies will respond to the shots and diminish. It just needs time.”
She let out a breath. “I try so hard to make him wear his jacket when it’s cool and a raincoat when it’s raining,” she muttered. “He whips them off the minute he gets out of my sight. Then he catches cold. There was a cold rain yesterday morning, and he went outside during play period without a coat and didn’t tell me until he woke up smothering this morning.”
Dr. Wagner chuckled. “Don’t blame yourself. He’s very sorry that he did it, more because of how upset you were than how dangerous it was to him,” he added. “He has a big heart for such a small child.”
“He gets picked on a lot at school because he can’t run like the other kids without getting out of breath,” Joceline said heavily. “And because he has to take shots for the allergies. Why are kids so mean to each other?”
“Why are there bullies?” Dr. Wagner replied. “I don’t know. I wish it was an issue that could be resolved. Now with cyberbullying so prevalent, a victimized child can see no peace even in his own home.”
“There should be more lawsuits,” Joceline muttered.
“I agree,” Jon said quietly.
Dr. Wagner looked at Jon curiously.
“This is my boss,” Joceline said quickly, so the doctor wouldn’t get the wrong idea. “Senior Agent Jon Blackhawk.”
Dr. Wagner shook hands. “I wanted to join the FBI myself when I was younger,” the doctor said surprisingly, “but my father wanted me to study medicine.” He laughed. “In the long run, I suppose he was right. We have four generations of physicians and surgeons in my family. I’d hate to be the one to break the tradition.”
“It’s lucky for us that you didn’t,” Joceline said. “Thank you for taking such good care of Markie.”
He smiled. “I told you that one day you’d be glad you made the decision you made,” he said enigmatically.
“I am, now, more than ever, despite the problems,” she added with a weary smile.
“Why don’t you go and get something to eat?” the doctor asked. “By the time you get back, Markie will be ready to go home.”
“They won’t have to keep him?” she worried.
“Oh, I don’t think so,” he replied. “We just want to make sure he’s stabilized and get him started on the new antibiotic. There are new inhalers out also, Joceline, you should talk to his allergist about them. One is for pediatric patients and has shown good results.”
She sighed heavily. The allergist had suggested one of the newer inhalers, which was over a hundred dollars a month. On her budget, even with good insurance, that was a fortune. But perhaps she could write to the drug company and request a reduced price. That had worked for her in the past. “Thank God he’s going to be all right.”
“Nice to meet you, Agent Blackhawk,” Dr. Wagner added, smiling as he walked away.
“Nice guy,” Jon remarked.
“Yes, we’re very lucky to have him. He’s taken great care of Markie.”
Jon was studying her with narrowed eyes. The doctor’s statement about the decision she’d made was puzzling.
She was tired and raw from lack of sleep or she might have reconsidered her words. “His father and I were very good friends. We had too much to drink and … there was Markie.”
He stared at her. He didn’t speak.
She averted her eyes. “I underestimated how—” she started to say “drugged” and immediately caught herself “—drunk he was and he didn’t realize that I was naive about men. We were both stupid.” She hesitated. “I wasn’t sure how I’d feel about a child who wasn’t planned.” She smiled. “But now he’s my whole world.” Her voice broke off.
“Your path hasn’t been an easy one,” Jon said quietly.
“Nobody’s path is easy. We just do what we have to do, and go on living. I love my son,” she added. “I have to live with the fact that Markie will always be illegitimate.” She looked up at him. “It hurts me. I try to live a conservative life. But it’s not Markie’s fault.”
