New Beginnings (3 page)

He laughed as he headed for the Birthing Unit to let Candace know the good news, keeping his feet securely in contact with the floor. No need to break his neck celebrating Elena’s successful surgical outcome.

He’d let Anabelle know the good news and call Fern after that.

After Elena rested in recovery for several hours, Dr. Drew signed her release.

Phyllis Getty, a hospital volunteer, charged into the room with a wheelchair. A dozen service-award pins weighed down the breast pocket of her kelly-green jacket.

“Your chariot has arrived,” she announced in a voice that resembled that of a Marine drill sergeant.

Sitting on the side of the bed, wearing a velour jogging outfit and her navy peacoat, Elena said, “Cesar could have taken me out.”

“Nonsense!” Phyllis whipped the chair around for Elena’s easier access. “You’re one of my favorite nurses. You get special treatment.”

Elena smiled to herself as she eased into the chair. Knowing Phyllis, each nurse and doctor, each clerk and cafeteria worker, was her favorite. The staff felt the same way about her.

“I’ll get her things,” Cesar offered.

“Of course you will.” Taking hold of the handles, Phyllis pushed Elena out the door. “You’re a gentleman. You wouldn’t burden me with all that extra weight to shove around.”

Perhaps because the anesthetic hadn’t yet entirely worn off, or more likely because a terrible weight had been lifted from her shoulders, Elena giggled. Phyllis Getty could no doubt wrestle twice her weight in chimpanzees and win, despite being well into her eighties.

Cesar punched the elevator button. When the elevator arrived, the door swished open and two nurses stepped out. Riley Hohmann, the day-shift nurse supervisor in the Birthing Unit, stopped abruptly and gaped at Elena and then smiled. “I heard the surgery went perfectly.”

“There are no secrets around here,” Elena said with a bounce in her voice.

“Precious cargo.” Phyllis announced as she pushed Elena past the two nurses.

Dr. Drew’s good news had been like a shot of adrenaline directly into Elena’s veins. Even so, she’d be glad to get home to celebrate with her family and say another prayer of thanksgiving.

As James checked out at the end of his shift, he decided God had been working overtime at Hope Haven. Elena’s health scare had been successfully resolved; and the two accident victims had survived, if not unscathed, at least in a condition to go on with their lives. James sent up a prayer of gratitude for all of them.

After the freezing overnight temperatures, the day had warmed and the roads were dry.

James pulled his van into the garage. They’d lived in the new house for a little over a year and there were still some boxes stacked in the back of the garage that hadn’t been unpacked yet. Maybe he could get to them during the holiday season.

Living in a one-story house had been a blessing for Fern. Even on her bad days—and there had been fewer of those recently—she could get around better here than in their former two-story home.

He found Fern in the family room, a still life watercolor in progress on her easel. He bent down to kiss her.

“Careful, honey, or you’ll get paint all over your jacket.” She didn’t care if the old cardigan sweater she wore got a little paint on it.

He shrugged out of his parka. “How was your day?”

“Wonderful after you let me know Elena is going to be all right. What a scare she had.”

“Cesar too. He was pretty much a basket case this morning waiting for word on her surgery.”

“I was distracted at my art class too. But Elyse was very complimentary about my painting this morning.” Fern eyed her still life critically. Elyse taught a weekly art class in her home for several women, which provided Fern with both a social and a creative outlet. “I’m not so sure. Does that pear look lopsided to you?”

“I don’t know. But shouldn’t it be yellow?”

She frowned up at him. “It’s a Bosc pear, not a Bartlett. It doesn’t turn yellow.”

“It should. How else would anyone know it’s a pear?”

“You’re going to find out when you eat it in your spinach and pear salad tonight.”

“Sounds delicious. I’d still make it yellow though.”

In mock threat, she pointed her paintbrush right at his nose. “If you’re not careful, Mr. Smart Guy, you’ll be eating your dinner out in the garage.”

Chuckling, he went into the front entryway to hang up his parka in the closet. The house had hardwood floors in the living areas and bedrooms and tile floors in the entry and kitchen—another blessing, as, before Fern’s remission, she’d often had to use a walker and sometimes a wheelchair.

He glanced into the living room and flipped the switch to turn on the Christmas tree lights. He smiled. The bay window provided a perfect setting for the eight-foot tree. The neighbors had all remarked on how festive it made the house look in the window.

After changing his clothes in the master bedroom, he returned to the kitchen.

“Where are the boys?” he asked.

“Gideon’s at JROTC and Nelson was going to a science club meeting.”

“They’ll both be home for dinner?”

“So far as I know.”

Both of their boys were good kids. Nelson, a high school sophomore, was the more academic of the two; but Gideon, a junior, had worked hard to get his grades up. He had his cap set on the Naval Academy at Annapolis. They’d sent off their congressman’s letter of nomination and a recommendation from his Junior ROTC commander along with Gideon’s admission application in November.

“I’d better get the roast in the oven so we have some meat to go along with your spinach and green pear salad.”

She gave him a narrowed-eye look. “Too bad the garage isn’t heated. Remember to wear your jacket for dinner.”

Laughing, he retrieved the roast from the refrigerator. He loved Fern’s spunk and sense of humor. He was a lucky man to have found her.

“
Buela! Buela!
” Seven-year-old Isabel came running out of the house as soon as Cesar stopped the truck.

Rafael strolled out of the house behind her and opened the passenger door for Elena. “Take it easy, Izzy. Remember your grandmother had surgery this morning.”

“I know. I won’t hurt her.”

Holding Rafael’s hand, Elena eased herself out of the truck. “Don’t worry, Izzy. I’m going to be just fine.”

“How are you really?” A frown clouded Rafael’s face.

“I’m still a little wobbly from the anesthetic. By tomorrow I’ll be my old self. Or close to it, at least.”

Rafael put his arm around her. “Dad called me with the good news. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there with you.”

“You were taking care of your daughter and your future career, which is what you should have been doing.”

Cesar came around to her side of the truck. “Let’s get her inside and to bed. She needs to rest.”

“Why do you have to take a nap?” Izzy asked.

Elena patted her granddaughter’s crown of dark hair. “Just a little one, angel. Having surgery is tiring work.”

By the time Elena reached the bedroom, Cesar had the bed turned down for her. He hadn’t stopped smiling since the doctor told them there was no sign of cancer, and he continued to smile as he helped her into her nightgown.

With a sigh, she slid between the cool sheets on the queen-sized bed and he covered her with the quilt.

“You rest now, querida. I’ll fix you some soup when you’re ready for dinner.”

“Thank you, honey. You’re such a good husband.”

He kissed her forehead and then slipped out the door.

Still suffering from the effects of the anesthetic, Elena was almost asleep when she heard voices just outside the bedroom door.

“But Dorie and Bearbear and Quacker will help Buela sleep better.” Izzy’s stage whisper projected through the bedroom door as if it wasn’t closed.

“All right,” Cesar said. “But you’ll have to be very quiet. We don’t want to wake your Buela.”

“I’ll tiptoe as quiet as a little mouse,” she promised in the same not-so-hushed voice.

Smiling, keeping her eyes shut, Elena heard child footsteps coming toward her. The mattress shifted. Bounced. Then shifted again. More hurried little footsteps. The bedroom door closed.

Elena opened one eye. There, lined up beside her, were Izzy’s prized stuffed animals: Dorie the elephant, Bearbear the teddy bear, and Quacker the yellow duck who sported a red bow tie. All of them there to watch over her while she slept.

A precious gift from a precious child.

C
ANDACE FELL ASLEEP IN THE CAR ON THE WAY HOME
from Hope Haven.

“Hey, little chickadee, we’re home.”

She blinked her eyes open, snapped her mouth closed and realized they were in her—their, she mentally corrected—garage. She looked at Heath. “I wasn’t asleep. Just resting my eyes.”

“Right.” A smile dimpled his cheeks. “That’s probably why you didn’t answer when I asked if you wanted me to make dinner tonight.”

“You, sir, are a top-notch husband.” Married since August, Candace still felt like she was on her honeymoon. After five years as a widow, it felt so good to be loved and cherished again.

“How about shrimp scampi? I’m pretty sure there’s some shrimp in the freezer.”

“I’m so tired, I wouldn’t even mind peanut butter sandwiches if I didn’t have to fix them myself.”

“Don’t tell the kids or that’s exactly what we’ll be having for dinner.”

He hopped out of the car. She exited more slowly. The Birthing Unit had been busy during her shift, but not unusually so. But she was weary to her core. It would be early to bed for her tonight.

“Come on, sleepyhead, let’s go find the kids.” He hooked his arm over her shoulders, ushering her into the family room.

“Mommy’s home!” Howie loudly announced. “Daddy too!” He popped up from the floor where he’d been sitting watching television and came running at them.

Heath caught the boy in midstride and lifted him in the air. “Hey, there, champ. Did you have a good day at school?”

“I had to stay inside during recess ‘cause the teacher said I’d been too squirmy and didn’t do my math right.”

Candace winced. Howie had been diagnosed with ADD in kindergarten. She’d been reluctant to put him on meds at such a young age. He’d managed much better in first grade. Now in second grade he was backsliding a bit. She’d have to talk with the teacher. Keeping him in at recess and not letting him burn off his excess energy was probably the worst thing the teacher could do.

Howie escaped Heath’s hold and ran back to watch his TV show.

“Hello, honey.” Sitting in the recliner, her mother looked up to greet Candace. She and Heath had worked hard to convince Janet to continue living with them after the wedding. Janet kept saying they needed their privacy. They knew they needed her to be a constant part of their family. “How was your day?”

“Long and tiring.”

“Which is why I’m cooking dinner tonight,” Heath said. “Shrimp scampi. Unless you’ve started something else for dinner, Janet.”

“How sweet of you,” she said. “But one of my friends from Cavendish House and I are going out for the early bird special at Ripley’s Diner tonight.”

“That’ll be fun for you,” Candace said. “Where’s Brooke?”

“In her room. She said she had homework to do, but I suspect she may be on the phone talking to one of her friends.”

At thirteen, Brooke’s peer group was growing more important to her every day. And then there was the whole issue of boys. Candace sighed, thinking that by the time her daughter safely reached adulthood, her hair would be as silver as her mother’s. “I’ll go up and check on her.”

Janet stood and stretched. “And I’ll be on my way. I shouldn’t be late getting home.”

Candace gave her mother a hug. “Thanks, Mom. You know how much I appreciate you picking up the kids.”

“And you know I love doing it. I think tomorrow Howie and I will bake some cookies. He’s going to be a good cook when he grows up.” Janet gave Heath a hug too.

He responded by adding his thanks. “Pick a day next week, and I’ll whip up a special meal for you. No reason why the ladies always have to do the cooking.”

Smiling, Janet glanced at Candace. “I knew there was a good reason why you married this man. Any man who cooks as well as he does is definitely a keeper.”

Since her car was parked on the street, Heath walked Janet to the front door while Candace went upstairs to say hello to Brooke.

She felt so blessed to have been loved by two good men, Dean and now Heath. Surely God had been watching over her even in her darkest days after Dean’s sudden death. Now she could rejoice in the new happiness that she’d found with Heath.

When Anabelle arrived home, Sarge greeted her with maximum tail wagging. She gave him a good scratch between his ears, one of which stood up straight, the other bent over as though he was always cocking his head to hear some exciting news.

He followed her into the living room. With a groan, she sat down in her favorite chair and took off her shoes.

Tail still wagging, Sarge looked at her expectantly.

“You may have enough energy for a walk, young man, but I don’t.” She leaned her head back and closed her eyes. It used to be she’d come home from work with energy left over. But no longer.

“Is that you, luv?” Cameron called from his office.

“In the living room.”

He appeared wearing casual slacks, a long-sleeved shirt, and socks. “I thought I heard you come in.” He crossed the room to turn on the Christmas tree lights.

Anabelle smiled as the ornaments reflected the colored lights. Many of the ornaments marked special occasions in their family’s life: the year Evan played trumpet in the school band, Ainslee’s first rocking horse, Kirstie’s dollhouse. All good memories Anabelle brought out each Christmas to savor once again.

“You look like you had a long day,” Cam said.

“I spent several hours with Cesar Rodriguez waiting to hear how Elena’s surgery went.”

“How did it go?”

“I’m sorry. I guess I should have called you, but I got behind on my schedule. The good news is that she’s fine. No sign of cancer. But Cesar was really nervous, obviously. Since Rafael couldn’t be there, I decided to sit with Cesar while he waited.”