Found: A Mother for His Son. Dianne Drake

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СКАЧАТЬ you were lying, which could make people wonder what else you lied about since little lies, like cinnamon tea, usually snowball. The world that opened up to me over a plain, black coffee is that it’s always best to be honest about who you are right from the start. You know, To thine own self be true. It’s one of the few things in life over which you have total control.”

      Spoken like a man who’d given it a lot of thought. Was that because of his wife’s problems? she wondered. “Like you always wanted to be a small-town doctor when everybody was trying to convince you to become a surgeon?” He’d been brilliant during his surgical rotation and the offers had flooded in, but he’d turned them down. People had ridiculed him for his choice because rural medicine wasn’t in vogue. Wasn’t lucrative. Wasn’t prestigious.

      “Being a surgeon, drinking cinnamon tea, it’s all the same thing. Directions that weren’t right for me.”

      She liked that in him. Dermott had a strong sense of self. In her own mixed-up life, a little of that might have helped along the way. “Then would you like to come in for a glass of…?” She didn’t remember seeing anything else to serve him but she really didn’t want him to leave. “Tap water?”

      “Actually, I was going to invite you down for a late supper. Max is in bed now, and I was getting ready to fix myself a grilled cheese sandwich. Since you arrived a day early and I didn’t stock you with any food, I thought the least I could do would be to slap a piece of cheese between two slices of bread and throw it in the skillet.”

      “You wouldn’t be offended if I brought my cinnamon tea with me?”

      He laughed. “It really is nice to see you, Jenna. I’m glad I didn’t run you off on your first day here. Heaven knows, except for my son, not much else had gone right lately. But having you here…”

      There was that sad look again. It was hard imagining Dermott as a widower with a young son. But that was his reality and, now, hers. So maybe looking for bits and pieces of the Dermott she’d known years ago was a waste of time. Maybe he’d moved too far from that point for any of it to remain. If so, that would be too bad. But the past was the past, and perhaps he was remaining true to himself as he was now, and not what he used to be. In which case, getting to know him again over a grilled cheese sandwich sounded lovely. “I’m glad I’m here, Dermott. Doubts and all, I’m glad I’m here.”

      “I hope so, JJ. I really hope so.”

      She liked it when he called her JJ. That was the old Dermott.

      “I have to call her right back,” Dermott said. “But I need to run downstairs and check her medical chart to see what her medication dose is. I think she may have taken too much, and that’s what’s causing her symptoms. Five minutes, and I’ll be right back. Then we’ll have grilled cheese.”

      “Can I do anything?”

      He shook his head. “I’ve been changing Mrs. Gray’s arthritis medications and she’s having some gastric upset because of it, and I suspect she’s not taking enough of the medication I prescribed to treat the side effect. Off the top of my head I could guess how many pills she’s supposed to take, but I’d rather be safe and check. Do you mind looking after Max for a few minutes?”

      “Well, I make a pretty good grilled cheese sandwich myself. You go, I’ll cook. And, no, I don’t mind looking after Max.”

      “Jenna Lawson, domestic.” He was chuckling on his way out the door. “I’d have never guessed.”

      Making a sandwich wasn’t exactly domestic, but Jenna actually found it rather pleasant puttering around Dermott’s kitchen, and she was just about ready to put the skillet on the gas flame when she heard a shriek coming from down the hall. “Max!” she gasped, turning off the gas and running as fast as she could to the bedroom where the little boy was tossing in his bed, and crying. “No!” he cried out. “Don’t! Please, don’t!”

      “Max,” she said, running straight to the bed. He was in the throes of a nightmare, and his little body was twisting in the bed. His eyes were open, he was reaching out trying to find something, or someone. Instinctively, Jenna dropped to the side of the bed and pulled the boy into her arms. But he fought her at first, pounding her with his fists, trying to get away.

      “No, I don’t want to!” he screamed, thrashing, hitting. “No…no…no!”

      “Max, it’s Jenna. Wake up, Max.” She gave him a little shake, but he hit her again. “Max, you’re safe. It’s Jenna, and I’m here with you. You’re safe.”

      “No,” he whimpered, the fight suddenly going out of him. He was drenched in sweat, and he’d wet the bed. “I don’t want to,” he choked out. “I don’t want to.”

      Jenna held him tight, stroked his head. “You’re safe,” she whispered. “Nothing’s going to hurt you. I promise, nothing’s going to hurt you.” He must have heard, because he settled down, snuggled into her arms.

      “Where’s the big guy?” he sniffled. “I want the big guy.”

      “He’s downstairs, talking to a patient. He’ll be here in a minute.”

      “I want him right now!” He pushed away from her and, as if having second thoughts, collapsed back in her arms. “I want him,” he said, crying now.

      “Shh,” she said, starting to rock him. “He’s coming right back for you, Max. He’s not going to leave you. He’ll be right back, I promise.”

      He nodded, but didn’t say anything. His body still shuddered though, and he clung to her as hard as he could. “If he doesn’t come back, do I have to go to Grandpa’s house?”

      “He’s coming back. And I’m not going to leave you until he does.”

      “Promise?”

      “Promise.” Poor child. He was trying to be brave, but she knew what it was like to have nightmares. She’d had them. Only there’d been no one to hold her like this, no one to take care of her when she’d been so scared, and hadn’t known of what. More often than not, her father had hit her and told her to shut up.

      “Max!” Dermott gasped, running through the door. He stopped short of the bed, breathless, his face drained of all color. “I heard from downstairs.”

      “And we’re just fine,” Jenna said. She was still rocking back and forth with Max in her arms, stroking his hair, holding on to him as tightly as he held her. He had quieted down and seemed contented to stay right where he was. She was contented to have him there, too. “He had a bad dream, but it’s over now and he’s doing better, aren’t you, Max?”

      Max nodded, but didn’t look up at his dad. His head was still tucked against Jenna’s chest, and Jenna held him protectively, the way a mother would. To anyone looking on who didn’t know, Jenna could have been his mother, the way she comforted him. Dermott saw that. Saw that she had already become a fierce protector of Max.

      “Dermott, we’re going to need some fresh pajamas and sheets, if you don’t mind getting them. And I think Max would like a quick little bath before he settles back in for the night.”

      Ten minutes later, after Dermott had gotten Max ready for bed again, and Jenna had changed the bedsheets, Max asked, “Can Jenna read me a story before I go back to sleep?”

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