a husband, that treasure the married women in his family prized above all else.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to make things worse for you.”
“Don’t feel badly. It’s been nearly two years and it’s a common assumption when you have a toddler, so I’m almost used to it.”
The boy whined louder.
“I really am pretty good with a grumpy baby,” he assured her, remembering his sister Tess’s wedding day when he’d been officially appointed to make sure none of the little ones got out of sorts during the reception. Good thing it was his policy never to take a date to a family function, because these days the girls expected Uncle Guy to be their babysitter.
Dillon strained against his mother’s efforts to rest his head on her shoulder and his blubbering continued with gusto. His face was contorted in aggravation when he turned his head toward Guy.
“Hey, little pal,” Guy used his best cajoling tone and nodded toward the nearby glass wall that over-looked the hospital’s courtyard. “Wanna go look out the window?” He held his palms out, but not too close.
Briefly distracted from his misery, Dillon’s crying stopped. He snuffled and hiccupped while his mother smoothed the face that was remarkably free of tears. He peered at Guy, who used the positive sign to take a small step closer and smile. The boy looked to his mother for guidance.
“Go see birdies?” she encouraged. “Tweet, tweet, tweet.”
His head bobbed and he leaned away from his mama, reaching chubby arms outward. Guy scooped up the boy, amazed by how heavy the little tyke felt.
“Whoa, this fella is solid.”
“Tell me about it.” Her eyes were round. She was clearly surprised that Dillon had left the security of her arms. She shrugged, then dropped her large purse on a nearby chair and rotated her shoulders. The latest revelation as well as the creases across her forehead told Guy the contents of the bag were nothing compared to the weight on this woman who was not much more than a girl herself.
“Mrs. Cramer? Dr. Cabot is ready to speak with you now,” a nurse called.
Abby turned toward the voice, then back to Guy and her son. Worry deepened the lines in her pretty face. She leaned to retrieve the bag and Guy knew Dillon would naturally be next.
“Go ahead. Leave him with me. We’ll be fine and you can give the doctor your undivided attention.”
She squinted, seemed unsure what to do.
“Weet, weet!” Dillon squealed and pointed toward the window.
“You betcha.” Guy smiled and repositioned the boy to face the wide pane of glass and the oversize birdbath outside that held his attention. “He’s happy, so we’ll wait right here.” He tipped his head toward the waiting nurse. “Go.”
Abby let the bag fall back on the floor and turned away. Her low heels tapped a rapid beat against the linoleum floor as she hurried to learn the condition of her mother. After she disappeared through the gray swinging doors, Guy carried Dillon for a closer look at the pair of daredevil mockingbirds at play.
Twenty minutes later she was back. Her fair skin had lost its appealing color. She pinched her bottom lip between her teeth and wrapped her arms across her torso, as if holding in what strength she had left. Dillon’s head had slumped to Guy’s shoulder, heavy with the need for a nap. Guy folded himself into a nearby chair and motioned for Abby to join him. She collapsed on the next seat and accepted her sleeping boy.
“Her hip’s broken,” her voice quavered. “It’s called a spontaneous fracture.” She dipped her face to kiss Dillon’s head, blocking Guy’s view of her private emotions.
“Oh, no.” He spoke softly, understanding the implications, sending up a silent prayer for God’s healing mercy. He knew from the experience with his paternal grandfather that the injury could be a long painful recovery, a permanent disability or even worse if complications set in. The outcome for her family could be dire.
“And they’d moved her around so much it was obvious she was suffering. That was hard to watch.” Her voice was a whisper.
If she’d been one of his sisters, Guy would have wrapped Abby in his arms and rocked her along with the sleeping toddler. But she was a customer whose mother had just suffered a major injury on his family’s property. He didn’t dare touch her for fear of further complicating an already difficult situation that could potentially impact the lives of his family, the H&H shareholders and their employees.
He sat straighter in his chair, pushed aside his own concerns. His worries were insignificant compared to Abby’s.
“Did they give her pain meds?”
She glanced up, nodded. “Something really strong so she’d rest. But she was rattling off instructions for me and the nurses when she fell asleep.” A sad smile flickered across her face and Guy mirrored her expression, imagining his mother doing the same, ordering the hospital staff about if the situation were reversed.
“Will she need surgery?”
“Dr. Cabot doesn’t think so. He says she’ll be in the hospital for a few days and if everything goes well she’ll be released to a rehab facility for extended physical therapy. As usual, she’s more worried about Daddy than she is about herself.” Abby sighed and rested her head against the back of the chair. “In forty-eight years of marriage my parents have never spent more than a few days apart. I don’t know how I’m going to keep them both occupied for six weeks with everything else I’ve got to do, but I’ll manage somehow.”
“Abigail?” A heavyset woman in a floral-print housedress hurried toward them.
“Oh, thank you for coming, Mrs. Eller.” Abby rocked forward and used momentum to swing Dillon onto her shoulder as she stood. Guy hopped to his feet as he was introduced to Abby’s neighbor. The two women exchanged a quick hug over the sleeping boy.
“What room is your mama in? I’ll sit with her so you can go tell your daddy.”
“You didn’t say anything to him, did you?” Abby sounded worried.
“Goodness, no. Now you hurry on home before he gets suspicious about what’s taking so long.”
Guy lifted Abby’s blue fabric bag sprinkled with dozens of fuzzy yellow chicks and slung it across his shoulder then followed her through the hospital’s emergency exit.
“Would you like me to take you straight home?”
“I appreciate the offer, but I’ll need my van to bring Daddy back to the hospital.”
“I can give you both a ride,” Guy offered as he held open the door of the Hearth and Home SUV.
She shook her head, blond curls bobbing. “Dad’s in a wheelchair and the side door of the van is outfitted with a lift.”
Guy grimaced at the new information. Another hardship for this small family. How would Abby cope with the situation? You never knew the true measure of someone until their back was against the wall and their only choices were to crumble or come out fighting.
No
