too traumatic on this poor child. “Anyway, let me go get you some ointment samples, and have the shot prepared, and I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.”
True to her word, Del appeared back in Sam’s room a few minutes later with a syringe full of antihistamine and a bag full of samples. Once she’d convinced Sam the needle wouldn’t hurt that much, she gave him the injection, and wrote down instructions for his mother to follow, including the antihistamine to be taken three times a day in small doses. “This should clear up in about three days,” she told Sam’s mother on the way out. “If it doesn’t, call me. In fact, call me either way because I’m curious if he is allergic to pumpkin vines. That’s kind of an odd allergy...”
Actually, nothing in the allergy world was odd. People had reactions to everything—to the expected as well as the unexpected, as in Sam’s case.
* * *
Her first day back dragged. She couldn’t get herself into the rhythm to save her soul. And between her hourly calls to check on Charlie and her work she was ready to go home by noon. But she’d just have to understand that this was the way it was. She loved her baby and she worried. Although, by the time her fourth call rolled around, she was sure the child center over at Lakeside was probably sick of her calling. So she vowed to not call after she took her lunch hour with Charlie. Which turned out to be around one o’clock.
“Momma missed you,” she said, picking him up and kissing him, then walking around the room with him.
“Am I being a nuisance?” she asked Mrs. Rogers, the director.
“Pretty much, yes,” she answered, smiling. “But the first few weeks aren’t easy. So we’re pretty forgiving.”
“I miss him, and it’s all I can do to keep from coming over here, getting him and taking him home.”
“You’re not the first, and you won’t be the last,” Mrs. Rogers replied. She was an older woman, short gray hair, and a registered nurse, retired.
No one could have better credentials or more experience with children, and Del considered herself lucky that they’d had an opening for Charlie, as the child center was usually booked months in advance. As it turned out, she’d reserved a spot even before he was born in the anticipation of returning to work and the timeline had worked out perfectly.
Del sighed heavily as Charlie snuggled into her and dozed off. “It’s amazing the way they can change a life so drastically, isn’t it?”
Mrs. Rogers laughed. “Too bad we can’t keep them all young and innocent, the way he is now. But if we did we wouldn’t get grandbabies, and I’ve got to tell you there’s a certain sense of satisfaction in being a grandmother.”
“How many grandkids do you have?” Del asked her as she laid Charlie back down in the crib.
“Five, so far. One on the way.”
“That’s awesome,” Del replied.
“What about your parents?”
“Grandparents in absentia. They live in Costa Rica and travel back every couple of months to spoil Charlie.”
“No husband?”
Del shook her head. “By design it’s just the two of us.”
“I admire a woman who knows what she wants and goes out and gets it.”
“And I admire you for taking such good care of all these children.”
“My assistants and I love children, and, since we’re all retired pediatric nurses, it’s a good way to still stay involved.”
Del smiled as she kissed her sleeping Prince Charming goodbye and returned to her clinic, feeling much more relieved than she had only an hour ago. In fact, this was the first time she thought it might actually work out, working full-time instead of part-time as well as being a full-time mom. At least, there was room for optimism in the scenario now. For which she was glad because she loved her work with a passion.
* * *
“Little Tommy Whitsett is here,” Rochelle said to Simon as he left an exam room where the child had a blueberry stuck up his nose. “I think it’s another case of nursemaid’s elbow.” Where a quick tug of a toddler’s arm oftentimes resulted in partial dislocation of an elbow ligament. In Tommy’s case it was a chronic condition, one caused when his older brother tugged a little too hard on Tommy’s arm, causing the ligament to snap out like a rubber band and not reset properly. It was typical of toddlers and Tommy would most likely outgrow the tendency in another year or two, but until then there was nothing really fixable as it wasn’t a serious injury. And the fix was easy. One gentle pop usually set the ligament right back where it belonged. Tommy got his lollipop and went home to have other wrestling matches with his brother.
“Have him shown to Room Three,” Simon said, and joined Tommy there a moment later. This was the third time he’d seen the child for the same injury in the past couple of months.
“I’m sorry this keeps happening, Doctor,” his poor, red-faced mother said. “But when they get to playing...” She shrugged.
“No big deal. He’ll outgrow this eventually, and that will be that.”
“But I feel so foolish coming in here so often. I’m afraid it might look to some like I’m an abusive parent.”
Admittedly, at one time Simon had wondered if Tommy’s handling at home was too rough, but he had a different attitude now that he’d met the cause face-to-face—a much bigger, sturdier brother—and witnessed the worry in Tommy’s mother’s face. “Boys will be boys. You just happen to have one who’s a little more elastic than the other one ever was. No big deal. Maybe have a word with his big brother to try and persuade him pulling his brother’s arm isn’t such a great idea.”
“I have tried, Doctor. It always scares me.”
“A lot of mothers get petrified if their child coughs or sneezes. That’s the proof of parenthood, I guess.”
“You’re not a parent, are you, Doctor?” she asked him.
He hesitated for a minute, then shook his head. “Haven’t had that opportunity yet.” If ever again.
“Well, it’s not easy.”
He thought back to Del and recalled the strain on her face at simply leaving her baby behind in a safe environment. Maybe he should have more empathy for her, going through separation anxiety as she was. But he found that difficult as he didn’t know how to show it for someone who’d made deliberate choices. Like Yvette, who’d pulled Amy out of his life altogether. He’d been the only father the child had known, albeit he was the stepfather. Then when his ex-wife met someone else, his feelings for Amy didn’t matter. So he was understandably still bitter and some of his personal reactions still reflected that. “You’re right. It’s not easy,” he said to Tommy’s mother.
“I guess,” Tommy’s mother said. “But I wish it was sometimes.”
“Parenting is never easy. It makes us realize just how powerless we are in so many situations. And I know you hate that vulnerability, but in your case you’ve got two fine, healthy sons and at the end
