Wake the Dawn (18 page)

Reluctantly, the lady unbuttoned. If Avis was this modest for a female doctor, she must hide under a blanket for a male. Esther examined the shoulder—a little warmer to the touch than the other shoulder, but not visibly swollen—as Avis chattered on.

“Do you know, Paul Harden’s daughter is back in town! I saw her in the grocery store with the sweetest baby. She’s just as beautiful as ever. You know, she and that Ben James were a couple in high school, and so handsome. Just perfect, the two of them together. Everyone was so disappointed when he went into the marines instead of just marrying her and going to teachers’ college. Of course, his Allie was very nice, too, and also a high school queen, but not the movie-star beauty that Amber is.” And on and on she went.

Movie-star beauty? Esther definitely wouldn’t say that. Amber, in fact, looked rather trailworn, as if life had not treated her well; or she had not treated life well.

“Thank you, Avis. You may button up.” Esther was going to say,
Your problem is getting worse, and pain pills aren’t going to do much
when she got an idea. “Uh, did you say if your Herbert is seeing anyone?”

“No. No he’s not. He dates a little, but no. Would you like his phone number? I understand that these days, girls call boys as often as boys call girls.”

“Yes. Yes, I would.”

Quickly, eagerly, Avis wrote a number on a scrap of paper and handed it to Esther. This was excellent. Esther would talk to Herbert and get his take on his mother’s condition. And she’d give him the orthopedists’ names.

“I will write you a pain prescription, Avis, but only for one week. Two a day, maximum. By next week, I expect you to have an appointment with an orthopedist.”

It took Esther another five minutes to get the yakkity Avis Breeden to leave; she might not have gotten it done at all, but Dennis and Yvette brought in a BLS Difficulty Breathing from the assisted living center and Esther was able to shoo Avis out the door.

Dennis was downright cheery as he wheeled in Mr. Lamont. “Home game tonight, Esther. Biggie, Bemidji North. Going?”

“As a matter of fact, Dennis, I am. Mr. Lamont.” Esther plugged in her ears. “I’d love to say it’s good to see you, but not with this labored breathing. Let me listen here.”

Mr. Lamont muttered something muffled through his oxygen mask.

Yvette sort of sneered, “Dennis is a sports nut. He can get all excited about beginners’ league bowling. High score, hundred and thirty-five; yay!”

Esther let the two of them transfer Mr. Lamont to the exam table. They were good at it, and this afternoon she felt very weary and wrung-out.

Dennis bubbled, “Hey! Neither team has lost yet, isn’t that right, Mr. Lamont?”

Mr. Lamont muttered.

“Well, yeah, I know it’s pretty early in the season.” Dennis undid the restraints.

Yvette plugged the oxygen mask into the wall valve. “Esther, you may not know that twenty years ago, Mr. Lamont coached high school lacrosse.”

“Really!” Esther slipped an oxygen perfusion clamp onto the man’s finger. “I played in high school, but I was never very good at it. Mr. Lamont, your O
₂
is way down. Have you been using your oxygen equipment consistently?”

He lifted the mask away. “Not on bridge days. Rest of the time.”

“And today was a bridge day, right?”

Yvette wagged her head. “You should see them play bridge. Pirates are kinder-hearted than those cutthroats; I mean real pirates. Trash talk like you wouldn’t believe.”

Esther grimaced. “I see. Would you two please hang out with him while I talk to his on-call nurse over at his center? Just a few minutes.”

“Sure.” They waved her off, so she returned to her office. She and the nurse, whom she knew casually, compared notes and agreed that his COPD needed greater attention than he could receive locally, so Esther authorized a transfer.

They wheeled him out the door. Oh, if only Avis could be rolled away so easily.

Esther glanced in the empty waiting room and announced to Barbara, “Got a hot date. I’m going home.”

“How hot?”

“Ben James, and probably Ansel. Lukewarm?”

“Oh, no! Boiling!” Barbara smiled, and her voice softened. “Esther, you know how Ben has been having such a really tough time since his wife died, and this is the first he’s starting to act like a human being again. I’m so glad you two are going out. Thank you for saying yes to him.”

“Hm. Now my hot date is a therapeutic intervention. Oh well. Good night.”

Barbara giggled. “Good night.”

She had never been to a tailgate party for the simple reason that she did not ever want to go to a tailgate party. So here she went off to her very first tailgate party, squeezed into the cab of Ansel’s little pickup truck between Ansel and Ben. They parked in the high school lot with maybe a hundred other vehicles, all the people laughing and mingling and apparently enjoying it.

Ansel dragged three Eskimo coolers to the back of the truck bed as Ben popped open three folding canvas directors’ chairs. He unfolded a resin table. From an open carton he plunked down flatware, paper plates and napkins, big bottles of mustard and ketchup. Ansel put the food out, a bowl of potato salad, fried chicken, corn-on-the-cob, and Esther could tell it was all homemade.

One cooler was beverages. Probably, alcohol was not permitted on the school grounds, but beer flowed freely, with people nearby surreptitiously drinking from paper cups. She watched Ben, curious to see if he would do likewise. He did not. So he was serious about keeping his act cleaned up for the baby’s sake.

She made mental note to ask him tonight if he’d sent in the forms for Dawn.

The conversation was fast, light, fun. Esther enjoyed the talk and the food. These two men were both good company. Several people who obviously knew them well stopped by, congratulated Ansel on the new arrival, insisted the baby should be named Storm, not Nathan. Ansel vowed to stick with Nathan because the original, King David’s spiritual mentor, was an upright and pious role model, and also because Ansel’s uncle Nathan, childless, had amassed a fortune, and well, you know…

Ben smirked and told her as an aside, “He has no such uncle. He’ll die penniless, same as the rest of us.”

Ansel glanced at his watch and clapped his hands. “I’m headed home. Little Natalie just found out a baby brother takes lots of Mommy’s time, and her nose is out of joint. So I’ll go spend some time with her before bed. Enjoy. Lemme know who wins.”

In moments, he and Ben had folded the table and chairs and put the food away; and their comfortable encampment disappeared into the back of the truck. Ansel drove off, and Ben and Esther walked over to the ticket window. Just the two of them. So this actually was a date.

“Tailgate parties are a whole lot more fun than I expected. Thanks!”

“Glad you enjoyed it. Busy day today?”

“Quite light, actually. I got a little headway on that mountain of paper.”

Ben wagged his head. “We should at least have kept a list. I never thought of it until afterward.”

“It wouldn’t have been kept up. The cases were coming in faster than we could handle them.” Esther expected them to climb up into the bleachers the way the rest of the crowd was doing. Instead, he led her to a box of seats on the fifty-yard line, ten rows above the field.

“Nice.” She settled into a bucket seat to Ben’s right. “I had assumed you bought general admission.”

“I like to watch the players, not ants running around on the field. You follow football much?”

“Not at all.”

“You are about to learn the game.”

They rose for the national anthem as executed by the brass section of the high school band. They cheered politely and briefly as the visiting team took the field; they cheered lustily and exuberantly for the home team. Obviously, white with blue trim figured prominently in the home team’s attire, and the opposing team was decked out in black and golden yellow. And all the while, Esther tried to analyze this situation as if she were undergoing an out-of-body experience.

This was Ben’s natural habitat, a football field. He fit here comfortably. And yet he fit comfortably in the clinic during the storms, and he seemed to be fitting comfortably as a surrogate father. Which man was he, or was he all of them?

Which woman was she? A physician’s assistant, tantamount to a doctor in this small town, but she did not fit comfortably. A Christian, but she rarely went to church. She enjoyed children but had no burning desire for one of her own. She found the whole thing confusing and in a large way, saddening.

Ben leaned toward her to be heard above the hubbub. “Each team tries to keep the enemy from getting close enough to the goalposts on its end of the field to score. They’re tossing a coin to determine who has the ball first. Chance also determines which set of goalposts will be defended by which team first. At the half, they switch ends.”

He went on, “It’s especially important for the first few games of the season. The sun is going down, and it’s in the eyes of the team trying to get to those goalposts.”

She nodded. “Blinding. Very difficult see, with the sun low in your eyes.” She would not have thought of that. She watched the players line up and crouch. A disembodied announcer crowed enthusiastically, “There’s the snap. Conner to Wilkes, Wilkes takes it for five. Nice play.”

She should have brought a jacket. She had forgotten how quickly it got cool this time of year. Most of the people here were getting out blue-and-white jackets or sweatshirts. The bleachers on the other side were turning black and gold as their people bundled up.

She jumped and gasped as a warm jacket dropped over her shoulders. Ben had just loaned her his own jacket. “Thank you, but you take it. I can—”

He grinned. “I’m good. I wore a sweatshirt under it, just in case.”

He explained the next play as it was happening, as if he knew already what they would do. She realized, he probably did.

“Ben! It is so good to see you here!” Amber! She plopped into the only seat left in this box, the one to Ben’s left.

“Good to see you!” He flashed her a bright grin. “Welcome home.” He turned back to Esther. “You see which one’s the quarterback?” She nodded. He pointed. “Watch the backfield, those guys there. One of them just dropped behind the enemy lines. The one way back is the target; he’s clear of enemy players.”

The quarterback threw the ball mightily; it arced over the players, and that lone fellow grabbed the ball and started running. The enemy players quickly brought him down.

“Ben!” Amber sounded astonished. “She surely isn’t that dumb about football, is she? I mean, that’s first-grader stuff.”

Esther definitely felt her feathers ruffling. She turned her attention back to the field. The players churned around a little, lined up, paused, suddenly burst into action. Now that she could see what they were trying to do, it was beginning to make a little sense. And now she knew about downs and yards. This was quite a complex game.

Amber pushed in against Ben’s left side, rather hard to do with these bucket seats. “I love these Friday-night football games, don’t you?”

Kind of a stupid question.
Esther chalked it up to that’s-just-Amber. Maybe the lady had trouble making small talk. Esther often did. Ben muttered something.

Amber pushed tightly against him, wrapped her right arm into his left. “Yes, this sure brings back old memories, doesn’t it?”

The announcer called, “Myer picked up seven yards there. Second and goal.”

Esther asked Ben, “So that’s the line the player has to cross, right?”

“Right. Properly speaking, the ball has to cross it and be in the physical control of the player. That’s a touchdown.”

Amber purred, “It gets cold out here too quick. Ben, could I borrow your jacket awhile?”

Esther could hardly believe it.
Sheesh, Amber! That is
so
high school!

Ben seemed not to notice. “Sorry. It’s already loaned out.”

Amber leaned way forward, looked squarely at Esther, and asked, “I don’t suppose I could borrow for a while.”

And the way Amber was looking at her, and the way she said that, Esther knew for sure she wasn’t talking about the jacket.

Chapter Nineteen

H
aving a day with her family had seemed like a good idea.

Until it was time to go there, and now all Esther wanted to do was call and say she wasn’t coming. Or couldn’t come. But for what reason? That was where she drew a blank. She’d told her mother she’d leave right after church and if she was going to get to church on time, she’d better step on it.

Pastor was making the announcements before the start of the service when she found a seat on the outside end of the last row—easier to get up and leave if she couldn’t handle the sitting any longer. Settling her purse under the pew in front of her, she turned her attention toward the front, at the same time taking a deep breath and slowly letting it out again. There was no need to have tension in her neck and shoulders when she was here. Another thought floated through. As sporadic as her attendance had been the last few months, why was something inside her so insistent that she needed to be here this Sunday?

The organist played the prelude to the hymn and everyone rose to sing. The voice in front of her sure sounded familiar. A man with a baby in his arms. It couldn’t be. Ben! All these years she’d been coming here and she’d never seen him in church since his wife died. Beth and Ansel and their two sat beside Ben, Beth with the baby, Ansel with his daughter in his lap.

Why had she chosen to sit here? Now she’d be caught in a conversation afterward, unless she snuck out right after communion. She tried to keep her mind on the service, but questions kept bombarding her. She’d forgotten to ask him Friday night if he had sent in the paperwork on Dawn like she’d asked him to. Did she ask him to or was that only in her imagination? Tired as they’d all been, it was miraculous that more things hadn’t fallen through the cracks. Or else she just didn’t know it yet.

Trying to pay attention took so much energy, she settled into her corner and started listing things to be thankful for. Until everyone rose and turned to those around and behind them for the greeting. Pasting a smile on her face, she said good morning and she sure looks wonderful and how are you, Beth and…And the one she didn’t ask was,
Should you have Dawn out in public where someone might start asking questions?

But her concern let up when he told the people in front of him that he was taking care of the baby for now and that Beth was really doing all the work. As everyone sat back down to prepare for the sermon, Esther sucked in a deep breath and wished she could put her hand on Ben’s shoulder.

What? Where had that come from? She’d like to hold little Dawn, too. Now, that was understandable, but what brought about the former? Yes, they’d had a good time at the game, until Amber joined them.

The minister’s voice broke through her fog. “Let us pray.”

That part she could do. With his words on one ear and her own petitions floating through her mind, she hoped God could sort it all out. She prayed for healing for herself, safety for Dawn, and an answer to the social services monster that had yet to rear its ugly head. So far, unless Ben had filed the forms, no one even knew there was a baby here.

She glanced at the bulletin. Sermon title: Love One Another.

“Let me ask you a question this morning. Jesus tells us to love one another—but how do we go about that?”

She’d learned the verses in Sunday school and sang all the kiddy songs. “Jesus Loves the Little Children,” “Jesus Loves Me,” “God Loves You, God Loves Me,” all with actions to remind them.

What did truly loving mean? What did it look like? What did it feel like? According to the Bible she was supposed to love everyone. Right. Friends and family. Check. So how about loving her mother when she was at her most irritating? Instead of staying as far away as possible. What about the man who made the mother leave Dawn to die in the woods? What about Amber last night? Love her, cow’s bells, she didn’t even particularly like her. And yet she’d given Amber her business card and said she could call. How would she deal with that? If Amber called? Which she doubted she would.

Why did she care if Amber was hitting on Ben?

She jerked her runaway mind back to the time and place. Worship.
Focus, Esther!

“It’s not easy but God never commands us to do something without providing the tools to do so. Our excuses run rampant.
When I get around to it. Maybe next week. Perhaps after they make the first move.
” He paused, slightly nodding and looking around at the congregation. “Love is a choice, not a feeling. Folks, we are on an adventure called Learning to Love. Let’s all learn together. Over the next weeks we’ll be studying this commandment: Love one another, even as I have loved you. Amen.”

He bowed his head to pray. All Esther wanted to do was leave right that instant. When they stood to sing another hymn, all her flight symptoms overrode her stay commands and she left.

Out in the car, she fought the tears that seemed omnipresent lately. Was she still that tired? What was causing her weepy state? Not that stress could cause this or anything. After blowing her nose, she turned right to the highway, rather than left toward the little house she loved and called home. She pulled into the drive-in for an extra-large cup of coffee with one cream and headed south. Refusing to allow her mind to take off on tracks where she did not want it to go, she turned the radio on louder than usual and focused on a discussion between an avowed atheist and a Jewish priest or rabbi or something. Anything to keep her mind away from the topics eating at her, and her mind was always free to float with music.

The devastation of the countryside eased up about fifteen miles outside Pineville. There were still a few downed trees as she drew closer to her parents’ farm. It had been in the family now for three generations. Her brother Kenneth was farming with their dad and planned to take over more as the years passed. Esther knew that right now, her father had no intention of relinquishing the farm yet.

A new dog ran beside their basset Artie as he came to meet her when she parked in front of the garage. “I see you have a friend,” she murmured to the aging dog as he leaned against her legs. The younger basset hesitated, barked at her, then when Artie was happy came up for pats. “When did you come to live here and how come no one told me?” Artie whined and pushed the youngster out of the way. “Obviously you are top dog, which is as it should be.” She knew she was prolonging the entrance to the house. So many questions, comments on how she was looking mighty tired, all the while she would be fighting to keep her public mask firmly in place.

And staying away from her father’s hugs. That would do her in for sure. Keep it light, keep it general, and get out. Those were her personal orders.

Dogs at her heels, she strolled up the steps to the wraparound porch. The door opened to frame her grandmother, Alma Hanson. Arms wide, she waited for Esther to come in.

“I am so happy to see you.” The hug brought a boulder to Esther’s throat. Of course Gramma would be here, Sunday dinner and she lived in a small cottage right behind the old farmhouse.

“Thank you.” Esther hugged her back. She swallowed and cleared her throat. “You look as good as always.”

“Oh, phfff, stuff and nonsense.” She locked her arm through Esther’s. “You and I are going to do some catching up, but right now I’ll grudgingly share you with the rest.”

Esther stopped in the arched doorway to the family room where the men were watching football. She could hear her mother and Joan in the kitchen.

Her brother Kenneth held up one finger, meaning “hold on,” until the play was complete and he leaped to his feet. “Told you they would take it.” He crossed the room to hug his sister. “Took you long enough.”

“You know I don’t drive fast.”

“Not what I meant and you know it.”

Her father, Peter, waited right behind him, then elbowed him aside. “My turn.” He hugged Esther and whispered in her ear. “So glad you could come.”

“Me, too.” And she realized she meant it. “Sorry your team lost.”

He snorted. “They didn’t just lose, they rolled over, paws in the air. Pathetic.”

“Where are the others?”

Kenneth grumbled, “Jill has school, and Andrea’s kids have the mumps.”

“Mumps! You mean they were never vaccinated?”

“Hey. When did Andrea ever do anything right?” Kenneth turned back to the TV remote.

Andrea did lots of things right.
Esther bristled. In fact, Kenneth was all too often the screwup.

“So, you’re stuck with the rest of us.” Kenneth put down the remote and picked up the little blond toddler clutching his father’s pant leg. “This is Auntie Esther. Been awhile since you saw her, I think you were just crawling the last time she was here.”

Esther shook her head. “Knew you’d get the barbs in somehow. I was here the week before the storm hit.”

“No, you weren’t.” Her mother, Madge, wearing her normal slight frown, came through the arch. “Been more than two months since you were here, but who’s counting?” She’d tried to lighten her criticism but it was too late as far as Esther was concerned. It never failed. Her mother always had something negative to say. Even when Esther visited, it wasn’t enough. Wasn’t quite perfect.

For a change Esther chose not to respond. She gave her mother a big Brownie smile and glanced to see the woman behind her. “Well, Joanie, look at you!” She turned away from her mother to hug her sister-in-law. It was difficult; the closest she could get to Joanie’s shoulders was about three feet. “When are you due?”

“March. I wanted to tell you in person, not over the phone.”

“What a wonderful surprise. Do you know the sex of the baby yet?”

“No, the ultrasound was inconclusive. But that’s okay. Johnny will have a playmate no matter which. I just want a healthy baby.”

Esther knew they had lost a baby before Johnny and then one after. “You’re taking it easy?”

“Yes, Doctor.”

“Sorry, can’t help it.” She dug in the purse still hanging on her shoulder and pulled out a sucker. “This isn’t enough to ruin an appetite and it’s sugar-free.”

“Tell Auntie Esther thank you,” Kenneth instructed his son, who was instantly picking at the wrapping.

“Tank you.” He handed his dad the sucker. “Pwease.”

“You want me to eat your sucker?”

The little boy shook his head. “No! Mine. Open.”

Esther rolled her lips together to keep from laughing out loud. “He’s sure learned a lot of words.”

“
No
was the first one.”

Her mother barked, “Dinner is ready. We’ll dish things up while the rest of you come to the table. Johnny’s chair is by yours, Kenneth.”

When they were all seated, Dad bowed his head and waited for the rest to become quiet. “Lord God, we thank you for this day, for our family, for bringing Esther home for a visit, for healing our grandchildren. And for the food that is always delicious. Amen.”

Johnny echoed “Men,” making everyone chuckle.

Esther dodged questions until the coffee cups were refilled, after the apple pie had disappeared.

“Mom, your apple pie is the best anywhere.”

“She won the top ribbon again at the county fair, too; I heard talk that one should not be able to enter having won more than three times. Or was it five?” Her dad wrinkled his brow trying to remember.

“Mom wouldn’t be able to enter any baked goods with that kind of stipulation.” Kenneth used the side of his fork to scrape up the last smidgeon of pie juice from his plate. “You’re going to have to teach Joanie to make pie like this.”

“She’s tried. I’m hopeless.” She looked to Esther. “Did you learn how?”

“I bake a mean pie, but no one can touch Mom’s.”

“Tell us about the storm!” her mother asked.

“What did you read in the newspapers?”

“It was bad.”

“Doesn’t begin to cover it. We ran out of all our supplies at the clinic, two people with fatal injuries just in the clinic, a baby was born, another found out in the woods, a man still might lose his leg, and too many other tales. Right now one of the old men in town has offered a million dollars to help build a clinic if we can not only break ground but start the foundations in ninety days.”

“That’s impossible.”

“I thought so, too, but he has an ingenuous plan. Make it privately or municipally owned, funded by Pineville itself, starting with his gift and what he can convince others to add to it. Last I heard he had grants or donations of two million more. All these years some of us have been fighting for an up-to-date clinic and now we might get one.”

“I heard you even had a druggie attack!” Yes, Mom would be up on all the bad news.

“We did. Ben James took him down single-handedly. You remember Ben James, quarterback on the Pineville team the two years they went to state?”

“That boy could sure throw that ball.” Kenneth had been a couple of years behind Ben. “I’m surprised he didn’t try for pro ball.”

“He certainly performs well under pressure. He’s with border patrol now, has EMT training, and worked at the clinic all through both storms. You know we had a second storm on the heels of the first? I couldn’t have made it without him.” She started to tell them about Chief but changed tack when she realized that was not a good idea—too difficult for her to handle yet.