Mendoza's Miracle. Judy Duarte

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      Sure, the neonatal unit housed the most seriously ill newborns, but while some didn’t make it, many of them did. And as a nurse she was proud of the success rate.

      In fact, each year, the NICU staff put on a reunion party for the children who’d once been patients and who’d gone home healthy. The oldest were about ten years old now, and some of the parents had created play groups that were still going strong.

      While waiting for Javier’s brother, Leah opened the menu and studied her options. Marcos might know what Javier would like to eat, but she planned to choose something for herself.

      Who knew what might happen when she surprised him with his favorite Mexican meal. He might even ask her to join him for lunch. And if he did? She’d agree. Otherwise, she’d take her food home and eat it there.

      “Can I help you?” Marcos asked upon his approach.

      When she looked up from the menu and smiled, recognition dawned on his face. “What a surprise, Leah. I didn’t realize who you were in street clothes.”

      “That’s not surprising. I practically live in scrubs.”

      “How are things going?” Marcos asked. “I didn’t get a chance to stop by and see my brother last night. Wendy and I wanted to talk to the neonatologist when he made his morning rounds, so I had to work late to make up for being gone.”

      Wendy, who’d once worked at Red, too, had been expecting a baby this month, but she’d gone into premature labor back in January. The doctors had managed to stave off her contractions, then they’d put her on bed rest. She’d eventually given birth at home in early February, which had to be a real worry for them. But the baby girl was small but healthy and now thriving.

      At least, that’s the last Leah had heard. “Mary Anne’s still doing okay, isn’t she?”

      “Yes, everything is great. She’s been gaining weight, and the doctor is pleased with her progress.” A broad smile told Leah that the new father couldn’t be happier.

      “I’m glad to hear that,” she said.

      “It was a little scary for a while,” Marcos admitted, “but we’re all doing great. In fact, now that Mary Anne is out of the woods, Wendy and I are settling into parenthood. We’ve even been thinking about having a party soon to celebrate our daughter’s birth.”

      With the size of the Fortune and Mendoza families, that would probably be some party. And Leah couldn’t help but smile.

      The two families had been through a lot lately, first with the tornado and Javier’s injury, then with Wendy’s baby. So now that everyone was on the road to health and wellness, they had a lot to celebrate.

      “The hostess said you wanted to talk to me,” Marcos said. “Is everything all right?”

      He was worried about Javier, Leah realized, so she shot him a smile to put his mind at ease. “Your brother is coming along just fine, but I have a feeling that he’s getting tired of the hospital food. So I thought I’d surprise him with something different for a change. Do you have any suggestions? What does he usually order when he comes here?”

      Marcos chuckled. “I don’t suppose they’d let you sneak him an ice-cold beer and lime.”

      “I’m afraid not,” Leah said, enjoying the brotherly humor.

      “Well, he’ll be happy with the carne asada, which is what he usually orders.”

      “Then I’ll take a plate to go.”

      “How about you?” Marcos asked. “Aren’t you going to have lunch with him?”

      The thought had certainly crossed Leah’s mind, but she wasn’t so sure it was a good idea any longer.

      Marcos must have read her indecision, because he added, “My brother seems to really like you, and I’m sure he’ll be more likely to enjoy his meal if you share it with him.”

      He had a point, she supposed. “All right. I’ll take the small chicken taco salad.”

      She reached into her purse.

      “Oh, no you don’t,” Marcos said, placing a hand on her arm. “Put your money away. After all you’ve done for Javier, this order is on the house.”

      She wanted to object, to tell him she’d just been doing her job, that she’d fully intended to pay for lunch, that she hadn’t chosen the family’s restaurant hoping to get a freebie. But both appreciation and sincerity lit up his smile, so she released her wallet and thanked him instead.

      “Is there anything else you need? Dessert maybe? Javier likes the flan. I can also pack up napkins, silverware—whatever else you might need.”

      She was going to say that the takeout order was enough, then another idea struck. A good one.

      “You know,” she said, “I just might need a little more help from you after all.”

      When she told Marcos what she had in mind, he grinned and nodded his head in agreement. Then he turned to the hostess. “Give her whatever she wants.”

      Five minutes later, as Leah waited for her order, she went into the courtyard to cut a few sprigs of the fuchsia-colored bougainvillea with the scissors the hostess had given her.

      As she took the last cutting, she wondered how Javier would react to her surprise.

      The man was a little moody at times and hard to read, so it was anyone’s guess. But the idea had certainly put a bounce in her step and a smile on her face. She just hoped it did the same for him.

      Javier had just talked to Jeremy Fortune, who’d told him he’d be sending him to the rehab unit tomorrow or the next day, depending upon when they had a bed available.

      “You won’t have to stay very long,” Jeremy added. “After you’re discharged, you can do the rest of your rehab as an outpatient.”

      “That’s the best news I’ve had in months.” Javier blew out a weary sigh, glad to see some light at the end of the tunnel, even if he still had a long road to full recovery and a life he’d have to recreate in many ways. “You have no idea how badly I want to get out of here.”

      “I can imagine.” Jeremy placed a hand on Javier’s shoulder. “You’ve been through a lot these past two months. In fact, if you ever feel the need to talk to a professional, I can refer you to someone.”

      Javier stiffened and clucked his tongue. “Did my family put you up to that?”

      “No, they didn’t. Do they think you need counseling?”

      “It was suggested,” Javier admitted, before making his own opinion clear. “But I don’t need it.”

      “I’m not saying that you do. Just know that it’s available should you change your mind. And that if you do decide to talk to someone, it wouldn’t be a sign of weakness.”

      Maybe not, but Javier already felt like a ninety-pound weakling going up against a UFC fighter in a championship СКАЧАТЬ