Waiting for Baby. Cathy Mcdavid

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СКАЧАТЬ a flick of her wrist, she shut off the water, snatched a coarse paper towel from the dispenser and blotted her face dry. When she was done, she reached into her purse and removed a small bottle of antacid tablets, popping two in her mouth. She doubted they’d cure what ailed her.

      Since last Thursday when she’d met with Jake, her stomach had been in a chronic state of queasiness. Despite her best efforts, her plan for the center still hadn’t come together. And at the rate things were progressing, it might never.

      Keeping her word to Jake, she’d contacted the Horizon day care’s owners over the weekend, and Dave had assured her the insurance was adequate to cover clients and staff while they were visiting the ranch. Yesterday afternoon, the appropriate documentation was faxed to Jake’s office. His assistant had verified its receipt but volunteered no additional information in response to Lilly’s probing, other than to inform her that Jake would be in touch.

      Lilly’s anxiety had increased when the Malcovitches called a short while ago to tell her that if she didn’t have the mule picked up by tomorrow, they were giving him to someone else. She immediately placed another phone call to Jake and received the same cryptic message from his assistant. Lilly’s nerves couldn’t take much more.

      Popping a third antacid tablet, she returned the bottle to her purse and silently chided herself for letting Jake’s failure to call back upset her to the point of making her ill. He’d said he’d be in touch and he would. Jake was nothing if not dependable. All she had to do was wait.

      Giving her wispy bangs a quick finger-combing, she spun on her heels, opened the bathroom door and was immediately halted in midstep. Mrs. O’Conner was right outside and standing behind her wheelchair was Georgina, the center’s head caregiver.

      “Sorry.” Georgina backed up Mrs. O’Connor’s wheelchair to let Lilly pass. “She says she has to go. Now.” Georgina rolled her eyes.

      Lilly understood. Mrs. O’Connor “had to go” five or six times a day, whether she truly needed to or not.

      “How are you doing today, my dear?” Lilly stooped to Mrs. O’Connor’s level and laid a hand on her frail arm. “You seem sad.”

      Mrs. O’Connor raised watery eyes to Lilly. “My cat’s missing.”

      “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”

      “She’s been gone three days now.” Mrs. O’Connor sniffed sorrowfully. “Such a good kitty.”

      Lilly straightened but not before giving the older woman a reassuring squeeze. “I’m sure she’ll return soon.”

      “I hope so.”

      According to Mrs. O’Connor’s daughter, the cat had expired of old age more than a year earlier. There were days Mrs. O’Connor remembered and days she didn’t. The Horizon staff had been asked by her daughter to play along whenever the cat was mentioned.

      The O’Connors were typical of the center’s clients. Caring for elderly and emotionally or physically challenged adults wasn’t always easy. Families needed breaks to run errands, attend to personal business, go to dinner or one of a thousand other things most people took for granted. If family members worked outside the home, those breaks were even more important. The Horizon Adult Day Care Center helped by providing quality care in an attractive facility and at an affordable price.

      After the death of her son, Evan, and the divorce that followed, Lilly had reevaluated her priorities and decided on a change in careers. The satisfaction she derived from earning a fat paycheck and driving a nice car waned in comparison to making a difference in people’s lives. At first, she’d contemplated working with children but that would have been too difficult. When she heard about the administrative position at the Horizon Center, she knew she’d found what she was looking for. Accepting the position, she left her job at Mayo Clinic Arizona and moved from Phoenix to the considerably smaller town of Payson.

      There’d been times during her thirty-two years when Lilly was happier, but never had she felt more valued or appreciated.

      “Do you need any help?” she asked Georgina.

      “I think we can manage.” Maneuvering Mrs. O’Connor’s wheelchair to clear the bathroom doorway, Georgina set about her task with the cheery smile that made her such an asset to the center.

      “If my daughter phones about my cat, will you come get me?” Mrs. O’Connor called as the door was closed.

      “Right away.”

      Lilly traveled the short hall that opened into the main recreational room. There was, as usual, a flurry of activity and a cacophony of noisy chatter. She was stopped frequently—by both clients and staff members—on the way to her office, located near the main entrance.

      “Lilly, Mrs. Vega has taken the TV remote again and refuses to tell me where she’s hidden it.”

      “Try looking in the microwave.”

      “M-M-Miss R-R-Rus-s-so. S-s-see wh-what I d-d-draw.”

      “Very nice, Samuel.”

      “The soda machine is out of Pepsi again.”

      “You know you’re not supposed to drink caffeine, Mr. Lindenford. It makes you agitated.”

      And on it went.

      Lilly’s official title was administrator, which involved running the office, supervising the personnel, maintaining the financial records and overseeing customer relations. Some days, however, she felt more like a babysitter. Not that she minded.

      Lilly no sooner reached the entrance to her office door and sighed with relief when she was stopped yet again.

      “Is it true we’re picking up the mule tomorrow?”

      She spun around. “Jimmy Bob, where did you hear that?”

      The young man hung his head in shame. “Georgina told me.”

      He was lying. They both knew it. Like many people with Down’s syndrome, Jimmy Bob was a sweet, kind soul with boundless energy and a quick, hearty laugh. He was also a chronic eavesdropper, sneaking quietly up and listening to conversations that weren’t any of his business. Because it was impossible for him to keep a secret, he always confessed what he’d heard, usually in the form of a lie so as not to implicate himself. Fortunately, he was also very likeable.

      Lilly took pity on him. His woe-is-me expression never failed to win her over despite resolutions to the contrary.

      “Sucker,” she mumbled under her breath, then said out loud, “We hope to be able to pick up the mule tomorrow. We’re not sure yet.”

      “When will we be sure?”

      A glance at the phone on her desk and the glaring absence of a flashing red message light made her heart sink. Jake still hadn’t called. Was he avoiding her? Had the family rejected her plan, and he was trying to think of an easy way to let her down?

      “I don’t know, Jimmy Bob. By the end of today, maybe, if all goes well.”

      His face broke into an enormous grin, his earlier shame evidently СКАЧАТЬ