All I Want (10 page)

Accepted

Carly woke up bright and early Monday morning. There was no reason to, really. It was Columbus Day and there was no school. Even Sean had the day off, but she’d already made plans to spend the day at Albany Medical Center volunteering to help the children in the Pediatric Unit with schoolwork.

The last time she was there, she realized how great the need was. Most of the time the children were too sick to do their work, or the teachers assumed that. But she’d learned that plenty of the patients didn’t want to fall too far behind, and they needed the help.

At first she worried that seeing those children so sick would upset her. But then she realized they needed her help, and that was what she was good at—helping others.

Presley had showed her around and introduced her to the right people and the kids who needed the most help. Or at least wanted the most help. When she saw how much need there really was, she decided it was best suited to spend an entire day there, rather than a few hours at night when the children might be tired out.

So she woke up her normal time and got ready as if she were going to work for the day, actually looking forward to it.

Two hours later she was standing outside of the security doors pressing the intercom. When she heard the greeting, she said, “Carly Springfield here to volunteer.”

Immediately the doors released, she pushed one forward and walked through. She knew Presley didn’t come in until the afternoon, so she wasn’t sure where she should start.

“Hi, I’m Barbara,” an older nurse said, walking forward with her hand extended. “Presley told us all about you. She left a list of the children that requested specific help in areas. She wasn’t sure how much you could help today, or if each child could be seen, so she prioritized them based on how they were feeling and how soon they would be released.”

Carly was impressed and that did help tremendously. Following Barbara to a small, unoccupied office, she waited until the nurse had the list in her hand and passed it to her to review. There were five names on the list, all between the ages of seven and ten—perfect and right in her wheelhouse of expertise.

She walked into the first child’s room and was stunned to see the huge smile on the little girl’s face. “Are you here to help with my schoolwork?”

Gone was the apprehension she had coming today and worrying she might upset the kids. “I am. Do you like school?”

“I love school! I can’t wait to go back. I really don’t need much help though, but I want to know what I’m missing and make sure I’m doing everything the right way.”

The little girl was so enthusiastic over school and her work that it started Carly’s day on a positive note, reaffirming why she did what she did.

The next child was just as much of a success, gobbling up all the information that Carly could provide. So much so, she walked into the third child’s room on cloud nine.

Only this student, Jacob, didn’t want to talk about school. He didn’t want to talk about homework and he really didn’t want her in the room. Knowing not to push too hard, she decided to try one more tactic. “Do you like video games?”

Jacob snorted at her. “Of course. Who doesn’t like video games?”

“What’s your favorite game?” she asked, settling into her chair, hoping she could make a little progress.

“
Mindcraft
. My parents won’t bring me their laptop though so I can play.”

She’d heard of the game. Most of the students in her class played this game, and surprisingly, she realized it was almost a learning game. Building communities and protecting them. It was part design and part strategy. “What do you like best about
Mindcraft
?”

“I like building fortresses,” he said, looking more interested in the conversation now.

“Why’s that?’

“Because it’s fun to protect what is mine.”

“Do you know that’s what was done in history? We are learning about that in my class right now.” She pulled out his history textbook and flipped to a page and started to talk about his homework.

“That was sneaky,” he said to her thirty minutes later.

“It was, wasn’t it? But you learned something today too. See, homework can be fun.”

The fourth child was sleeping, but his mother lifted her head and whispered, “Can you look over his work and let me know what is wrong? I’m trying to keep him up to date, but maybe you can give me some pointers.” Carly was pleased to see the mother had a strong grasp on her child’s schoolwork and was keeping him up to date. It made her proud and happy to know there were still parents out there so involved in their child’s education.

When she checked in the room of the fifth patient, she saw that lunch had been served so she decided to go to the cafeteria herself and grab a bite to eat, saying she’d be back in about thirty minutes.

Sitting at the table with her sandwich, she heard her name called out and turned to see Brooke Mathews standing there. “I thought that was you, Carly.” Brooke paused, her eyes landing on the badge Carly was wearing. “I didn’t know you volunteered here,” she said warmly.

“It’s my second time. I never really realized the need until I talked to Presley one day when we were all together for Brynn’s wedding. She set it up for me and it seems to be working well. I should look into Saratoga Hospital and see if there is something they could use, but I have a feeling the kids that really have the need are sent here anyway.”

“Yes, they are. If you are looking to tutor or help the kids for the long-term stays, then this is where they end up. My brother, Mac—you remember Zoe, right? He’s a pediatrician at Saratoga Hospital. I could give him your information if you want to look into it, but my guess is the need is here more so for that type of volunteering.”

Carly had heard someone refer to Mac as Dr. Malone at the wedding, but she didn’t realize he was a pediatrician. It seemed like everyone was connected to the Harpers somehow and she was slowly being pulled in. The offer felt so genuine coming from Brooke. “I’d like that. There might be something else they have a need for. I actually volunteer at a women’s shelter too, and I’m on the board of a local Big Brothers Big Sisters.”

“That’s wonderful,” Brooke said. “I really should try to spend some time giving back, but I just have my hands full, it seems. Still, there is always someone out there that could use a hand.”

“Volunteering doesn’t have to be a weekly thing, or even hands-on with clients. Most organizations need help with all sorts of things, even charity events that might only happen once a year.” Carly stopped after that. She didn’t want to come off as lecturing. She knew most people didn’t have the time, and she’d be willing to bet the Mathews family helped in more monetary ways, which was just as important. “How is Michael doing?” she asked instead. She’d had so much fun dancing with Michael and his cousin Evan at Brynn’s wedding.

Brooke’s eyes softened. “He’s great. And he keeps asking me when he gets to dance with the pretty lady again.”

“That’s so sweet.” Carly loved kids and loved spending time with them. Especially fun time like dancing with them and making them laugh and giggle.

“You’ve left quite an impression on him. I told him you were a teacher and when I bring him to nursery school he asks if the pretty dancing lady is there. We haven’t been able to make him understand that you teach somewhere else.”

That comment warmed Carly immensely. “How is your other son? I’m so sorry, but I don’t believe I’ve heard his name. I’m really good with names, so I know I wouldn’t have forgotten it.”

“I bet you are good with names. You’d have to be, right? His name is Logan and he is a terror. So much different than Michael. I’m glad I had Michael first; otherwise I might have stopped at one.”

“I’ve heard that spoken many times from mothers.”

“Well, I’ll let you get to your lunch. Lucas is probably wondering where I am. We try to have lunch together at work as it’s the only time we get alone besides when the boys are sleeping.” She laid her hand on Carly’s arm. “Have a great day. I’m sure I’ll see you again soon.”

Carly watched Brooke walk away, feeling accepted at that moment. It was silly really; she’d never worried about feeling accepted into groups of people before. Well, that wasn’t true. When she’d moved to Saratoga at age ten, she’d been the odd kid out.

Starting school in a new district at that age wasn’t easy. Everyone else had been paired up in groups. She didn’t have the social class or money to fit in with the popular kids. She wasn’t kidding when she told Brynn that if Kaitlin had gone to public school she’d probably never have talked to Carly.

Wiping the thoughts of trying to fit in out of her mind, she finished up her lunch quickly, tossed her garbage away and made her way back to the Pediatric Unit.

Once she was buzzed in, she went right to the fifth name on the list and knocked on the doorframe. “Samantha? Are you ready for me?”

The blonde girl of eight looked up from the bed she was sitting in and said shyly, “Yes.”

Carly moved forward and sat next to the bed and decided to see if she could get her to warm up. “Do you go by Sam or Samantha?”

“Sam,” she said, then ducked her eyes fast.

“That’s good. That’s a pretty name.” Carly reached forward and went to lightly touch Sam’s hand to reassure her, but Sam yanked her hand back as if it had been burned. So Carly just slowly pushed back in her chair and gave Sam some space and started to talk. “So what do you like about school?”

“Not much.”

Carly bit back a laugh. “Okay, what don’t you like about school?”

Sam lifted her eyes, suspicion etched in every part of her face. “You aren’t mad I said that?”

“No, not at all. I’ve heard it before, and plenty of times. The key is to find out what you like and see if you can find it in school. Or maybe what you don’t like and see if you can find out why?”

“They ask too many questions at school.”

Carly closed her eyes and took a deep breath, not liking where this was going, and feeling a horrible sense of déjà vu. “Who asks a lot of questions? The other kids?”
Please let her say the kids.

“
Sometimes,” Sam said, then stopped talking and looked at the books next to her bed. “I could use some help with my math.”

Carly let it drop. She’d try again, if she thought she had an opening, but for now she wouldn’t push. “Okay, we can start with math. What are you having problems with?”

“Everything.”

Carly tried something different. “How about what homework do you have? Do you mind if I look?” Carly asked, gesturing toward the books.

Through lots of coaxing and talking and being patient, Carly managed to get Sam to try to work out a few problems and then explained to her what she was doing wrong. “Do you have anyone at home that can help you when you leave the hospital?”

“My mom tries to, but she works a lot. When she gets home she has to get dinner ready for my father first. Once he comes home we go to our room.”

“We?”

“My little sister and I.”

Carly knew that Sam was there getting treatment for a kidney disease—Sam had told her that herself. She would be going back home in two weeks. “How old is your sister?”

“She’s five. She isn’t in school yet. Next year, my mother said.”

Sam’s eyes were darting around the room nervously every time she talked about her family, almost like she was fearful she would be caught. “What’s your sister’s name?”

“Emily,” Sam said in a whisper and then glanced at the doorway again.

“That’s a pretty name too.”

“Sam, what are you doing? I’ve told you before about talking to strangers.” Carly looked up to see the woman who spoke.

“Mom, this is Ms. Springfield. She’s helping with my math.”

The young woman came forward. She was probably in her late twenties but looked so much older. Years of hard work and stress showed on her face, not to mention the nerves just like Sam was exhibiting, added with a bit of anger at the moment.

Trying to defuse the situation, Carly stood up and extended her hand. “Hi.”

Sam’s mom took it tentatively, held it loosely and dropped it just as fast, but not before Carly saw the bruise, not to mention some old burn marks on her forearm from where her sleeve pulled up. Tugging the sleeve back in place, she said, “I can take care of Sam. She doesn’t need help.”

Carly nodded, knowing enough not to push. She knew the sight of a broken woman; she’d seen it enough in her life. “Sam’s a smart kid. She caught on pretty fast. But if you need any help, here is my card and my email is on the back.” A few years ago Carly had these cards made up that she handed out when volunteering. She never gave any information other than an email address—one only used for the purpose of volunteering, not her personal email. Sometimes people had a hard time reaching out face-to-face and an email would get the window of communication going.

Sam’s mom took the card, never offering her name, or saying thanks, just dropped her head back down and told Sam quietly, “Your father will be here later tonight. He’s getting out of work early.”

“He doesn’t need to visit, does he?”