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His little arms reached toward her. “Don’t go, Mama.”
“I’ll be right back, dear.”
His face began to pucker. “Stay with me.”
She wanted to gather him into her arms, but instead stood there smiling, praying that her manner and voice would reassure him. “I promise to come back very, very soon, Michael.”
A tear formed in each eye. “Last time was a long time.”
“I know, Michael—but remember I told you then that I must go to school and I would be gone quite a while—and I was. And this time I’m saying it will be just a little while, okay?”
His lower lip protruded, but she grinned, quickly walked over to put up the bed rail and left immediately, saying cheerfully, “See you in a tiny little bit, my love.”
She did not turn back when he cried, “Mama, come back, come back!” She leaned against the wall and waited to make sure his starting to cough harder didn’t make his wheezing more serious.
“Something wrong, Miss Jenson?” It was one of the older cleaning ladies. “Something wrong with that dear little boy of yours?”
Maybe I’m what’s wrong. Jana glanced at the woman’s name tag before whispering, “I just got back from my classes, Sandra, and need to speak with Michael’s nurse—but he doesn’t want me to leave.”
A big smile covered the woman’s round face, and her hand on Jana’s waist gave a light shove. “We talked a whole lot while I was cleaning his room, so I’m gonna go in there and visit with that little cutie. We’ll make out fine.” She then walked inside, saying, “Hi, Michael. What have you and Raccie been doing since I left?”
Jana smiled with relief as she heard her son answer the question. There are so many wonderful people in Your world, God! Thanks for letting me get to know that—for letting me know them. And help me not to forget to help others….
She spoke first with the secretary, and was even more grateful for Sandra’s being with Michael as she waited several minutes to talk with the nurse. Margery Caldwell appeared harried, but did say that Michael was doing “as well as can be expected at this time.” Nobody had any idea yet when he might go home, certainly not today—but she assured Jana he was over the worst of the attack.
When Jana returned to Michael’s room, Sandra bent over to kiss his cheek. “See, big guy? Your mom’s returned real quick, like she said—and now I’d better get back to my job before I get in trouble.” On the way to the door she took time to add, “And you, Ms. Jenson, don’t worry so much. We’re here to help take care of your little boy.”
“Thanks, Sandra.” Jana reached out to squeeze her hand. “You have no idea how comforting it is to know that.” She put down the side rail and sat on Michael’s bed again as she told him the nurse said he was better.
“Yep.” He nodded. “Better.”
She touched his chest. “Does it hurt here?”
He shook his head. “Nope.”
“Did it hurt?”
“Yep.”
“Where did you hurt?”
“Here!” His fingertips beat a brief tattoo on his chest, then moved to his throat. “And here.”
The wheezing. And coughing. “Well, since they’re both better now, would you like to get out of bed?”
He was instantly slithering around her, legs already over the edge of the bed as she grabbed him. “Michael, wait a second! Look down there—how far it is to the floor. This is a high bed, not like yours at home with its short legs.”
She convinced him to sit while she got his pajamas and bunny slippers from the bag she’d brought with her. “And as soon as you go to the bathroom, and change out of that gown and into these clothes, we’ll walk in the hall.”
He was so overjoyed at this prospect that it was difficult to keep him still long enough to slide his legs into the pants and his feet into slippers. She held him as he tugged to run down the hallway. Remembering how very sick he’d been during the night, she wasn’t sure how much energy he should be expending.
At the end of the corridor, she lifted him so he could look out the window. “What do you see, Michael?”
“Oh, trees and grass and sidewalks and men and women and cars and streets and a dog….” It was a singsong reply, with all nouns emphasized. “And clouds and shadows and birds and branches—I see lots of things.”
“Yes, dear, you certainly do see lots of things, and I’m glad you showed them to me. I had not even noticed those shadows.” After all, she and Michael were on the fourth floor.
“Lots of shadows—the big, big one’s from the ho’pital, and the littler ones are from trees—but it’s hard seein’ people shadows.”
It seems to me that these are astute observations my three-year-old is making, but what do I know? Until he was born, I hadn’t been around many babies and small children.
They took their time walking to his room, for he had to investigate a wheelchair and climb on it. She pushed him a short distance before returning it to where it had been, and then they proceeded to his room. She let him press the button to raise the top of the bed and, after removing his slippers and her shoes, she lay down beside him to read several of his favorite books. It wasn’t long before his eyelids were getting heavy, but she made no comment about this, just kept on reading until he was sound asleep.
The rail was still up on the other side of the bed, and she hesitated to lower it in case that might awaken him, or might even make him worse. Laying the book on the bedside table, she turned onto her side with her arm around him and closed her eyes. I should use this time for studying, but I’m exhausted. I’m going to rest a few minutes….
Ray Hawkins was not used to making amends—most times he’d found it wasn’t necessary, particularly now that he was a tenured professor at a well-rated institution. However, though Jana Jenson had indicated that she’d accepted his apology, he still didn’t feel good about what he’d done to necessitate it.
Well, he’d discovered for himself the truth of the florists’ ads—that a dozen long-stemmed roses or some seasonal arrangement did seem to please women. He reached for the phone and started to dial that remembered number—but stopped in time.
There was a good possibility that this particular woman would not only see through his sending flowers, but tell him so!
Like she’d done after his class!
Well, then, he’d send flowers to her son; that shouldn’t offend her. He checked with the hospital for the child’s room number before calling the florist to order something suitable for a three-year-old in some clever pot or vase that a little kid would like.
Feeling pleased with himself after his phone conversation, he returned to looking over the material for tomorrow’s classes then, not bothering with lunch, finished checking over the tests from yesterday. He’d asked only one essay question in addition to all those requiring an answer of a few words, so the task was completed in less time than anticipated.
Picking up his briefcase and suit jacket, Ray left his office for the day, locked the door and went to his car.
On the spur of the moment he stopped at the florist’s to check the arrangement he’d ordered—and was annoyed when told that whichever container and flowers might be used, it wouldn’t be delivered until tomorrow!
Among the assortment of glass, ceramic and pottery containers, one in particular appealed to him. He’d been a railroad buff for as long as he could remember, his particular interest being steam engines. For the last ten years, ever since he was nineteen, he’d belonged to one, then another railroad club. His present one had not only restored an old station house, but also was in the continuing process of revamping an engine, caboose and various cars.
There was no doubt about it—this little steam engine with its burly black bear engineer and antlered-deer fireman was what he wanted for Michael. And it was after making that decision he belatedly recalled that some croup attacks were triggered by certain flowers or strong scents—so what he’d already ordered could be dangerous.
He carried the ceramic engine to the counter and informed the clerk that instead of flowers he wanted small plants in this container, and he’d wait for it to be made up so he could take it to the hospital himself.
The counter person stated she was too busy to do that right now, but he reminded her that she’d not told him on the phone his order wouldn’t be delivered today. Since he’d have to deliver it himself, he’d just borrow the stool from behind the counter and wait until his order was taken care of.
Seating himself in the busiest part of the shop, he began reading the professional journal that had come the day before, and it was no surprise that his order was made up quickly. He carried it to his car, then headed for the hospital, realizing that even though he should be rooting for the child to already be well enough to go home, he couldn’t help selfishly hoping Michael was still there—and that his mother was with him.
The hospital parking lot was almost full, but someone was pulling out of a spot near the entrance, so he slid into that. He seldom went to hospitals because he found them depressing, but this time he didn’t think of that. He did, however, wonder what in the world he could talk about with a child this young—or with anyone else, for that matter—if Jana wasn’t there. How could he explain to a stranger his personally bringing a gift for this child he’d never met?
He forced himself to get on the elevator when the doors opened—but had there not been people awaiting the exit of whoever pushed the button for the fourth floor, he might have stayed on for a return to the lobby to hand this planter to someone at the front desk. As it was, he stepped into the hallway and stood there for a moment, unsure where to go.
A cheerful older woman wearing a volunteer name tag caught his eye. “Can I help you?”
“Yes, please. Room four fourteen…?”
She pointed toward his right. “Make a left at the end of this corridor. It’s the third door on the right.”
“Thanks.” But his steps were slow as he followed her instructions. The partially open door showed only the foot of the bed, but as he stepped inside he saw first Jana’s stockinged feet, then legs that were quite worthy of notice! Then there was the blue-and-beige skirt and beige blouse Jana had been wearing this morning—and that lovely oval face.
She was lying on her right side, facing him, arm around a little boy with the same fair skin and sugar-taffy hair. His breathing sounded raspy, but Ray had never just stood and watched a sleeping child. He supposed this might not be too abnormal, though it seemed that the little chest, as observed through the cotton pajamas, was rising and lowering more than he’d have expected. Was it perhaps overfilling—perhaps needing more oxygen than usual?
It occurred to him that, notwithstanding all his studies in biology and human anatomy and physiology, in spite of his degrees and being one of the youngest tenured professors on campus, he knew very little as to three-year-olds—and was intrigued by the possibility of learning more about Michael.
As he already was about the child’s mother.
Ray had, of course, dated through the years, but always tried to keep from developing more than a short-term relationship. After all, his goal had been to get where he was now—so why wasn’t he more contented and fulfilled? Why did he have this something driving him to put more of himself into his work, to demand more and more of himself—and of his students?
Jana shifted, left leg sliding forward enough to again be in contact with her small son’s foot, which had moved away a few inches. Even in sleep she’s aware of needing closeness with the one she loves.
That observation made Ray suck in his breath sharply. Even awake, I seldom make an effort to be close to anyone.
What’s wrong with me today? Maybe I’d better just set this plant on the dresser and get out of here. However, he’d told them at the shop that, since he was hand-delivering it, he didn’t need a notification-of-sender card stuck in his train engine container.
He put the planter on the bedside table and was getting a business card from his wallet when he heard a sigh and saw Jana open her eyes and look right at him. He was sure he’d made no noise; had she sensed his presence?
She did not seem startled or uneasy at his being there, just smiled sleepily. Something caught in his throat, and he had to swallow hard. She looked so young, and innocent, and sweet, lying there with her arm around her sleeping son, and he had a moment of forcing himself to stay where he was.
What he’d been tempted to do was to push the table aside and take the several steps necessary to put his arms around both of them as they lay there on the bed—something he’d never before have considered doing!
Chapter Two
In her dream she’d just relived Dr. Hawkins saying she had his permission to hold him accountable—then here he was, a few feet away. She smiled lazily, then sobered as she realized where she was, lying in bed with her arm around her son, who’d been so sick.
“Oh….” It was an almost silent interjection as she cautiously straightened her arm, made sure her skirt was covering her thighs, then rolled over to sit on the side of the bed. “I—didn’t know you were here,” she whispered.
His voice was equally soft. “I just arrived, and I’m glad you were able to sleep. You must have needed it.”
She stood up. “I was awake all night.”
“Well, I—uh…” He looked almost embarrassed as he picked up the ceramic train engine holding several green plants. “I hoped that maybe your son—your Michael would like this. He’s not allergic to just foliage, is he?”
This man is really ill at ease—and I’ve seen that twice today. I never suspected…. Jana held the gift in both hands. “This is lovely, and I appreciate your considering possible allergies. Several of his worst attacks followed being around Easter lilies, poinsettias and mums—and I suspect carnations, though that was only once.”
“Is there anything you can do to control it—shots or anything?”
“It was discussed the last time we were at his pediatrician’s—and we’re scheduled to see the allergist next week.” She glanced toward the calendar on the wall. “Which reminds me to call him today.”
They’d moved across the room so they wouldn’t be as apt to wake the sleeping child, and she was in the doorway when she saw Gram come around the corner. Jana hurried to meet her and put her arms around the older woman, who was asking, “How is our little sweetheart?”
“Much better! He’s still wheezing, but has been sleeping for well over an hour. He hasn’t coughed much during that time.”
“Good!” But then she cautioned, “Don’t be alarmed, though, if he does some when he gets awake.”
“I realize he’s probably continuing to produce phlegm, and his body will try to loosen it.” She briefly wondered about the best way to account for this man being here and decided on making a simple, straightforward introduction. “Gram, this is Dr. Raymond Hawkins. Professor Hawkins, I’d like you to meet Mrs. MaryJean McHenry, one of the most special people I’ve ever known.”
“Ah, yes, the biology professor,” Gram said, not looking at all surprised as she stretched out her hand. “I’m pleased to meet you, Dr. Hawkins.”
He took the necessary step forward to clasp her hand. “And I’m honored to meet you, Mrs. McHenry.”
Gram admired the planter. “Some of our relatives were involved with railroads. There used to be a short line that ran right through Sylvan Falls, which accounts for our still having a Railroad Street.”
This definitely got his attention, for he asked a number of questions. It was some time later when Gram asked, “Have you eaten anything, Jana?”
“I was in too much of a hurry to get back here, then didn’t want to leave Michael.”
Gram stood there shaking her head. “Look, dear, you’ve got to start taking care of yourself, not only for your sake, but his.”
“Granted, but there seem to be exceptions to even the most logical of rules.” She smiled. “And, really, that little nap I had with him did me more good than a multicourse dinner.”
“Could be.” Gram wasn’t about to argue, but looked toward Ray. “Why don’t you take Jana down to the cafeteria while I’m here to stay with Michael?”
“Gram!” She was mortified at Gram’s asking him to do that. “Dr. Hawkins is a busy man. He doesn’t have to escort me downstairs!”
But Ray was saying at the same time, “That’s a great suggestion, Mrs. McHenry—especially since I also neglected to eat.”
“But—”
“I don’t enjoy always eating alone, Jana, and this is close enough to the evening meal that a sandwich or dish of ice cream later will take care of that.”
His smile was almost boyish, and there seemed to be a twinkle in his eye. Jana still didn’t feel right about this, but replied, “Wel-l-l, since we both do need to eat, I guess it makes sense to do it now. But if Michael’s at all upset about my leaving….”
Gram laughed and raised her hand as though taking an oath. “My dear Jana, I promise to take good care of him.”
“I’m sorry. You know more about babies and children than I ever will. It’s just that I was so scared last night and this morning.”
“Why wouldn’t you be? I was, too.”
Michael had flopped over on the bed to where Jana had recently been lying, and she wondered if by any chance she’d left some scent there—if it was more than happenstance that made the sleeping child seem to relax. Her arms ached with the almost irrepressible urge to gather her son close, to hold him, but she picked up her small purse and led the way from the room.
They engaged in small talk about college activities. No, she was not involved with any clubs or organizations—except for that noon meeting, which she sometimes attended when staying for an afternoon lab or to work at the library. She’d had no expectation of continuing to talk about that, but did when he asked another question. “It’s quite informal. Different people volunteer to read a scripture and share thoughts, and then there’s always some discussion and a time of prayer.”
“Do you volunteer?”
She glanced at him as she led the way into the empty elevator. “Not yet, though I should, for it’s been helpful for me.”
She wondered if he’d like it, but had no way of knowing, since he changed the subject to something he’d recently read about in an endocrinology journal as they entered the cafeteria.
She’d expected to have just a bowl of soup and a sandwich, but he talked her into a full meal when he said, “What are the odds that your little one won’t want you leaving to eat later?”
“You’re right, of course. And by then Gram will be back in Sylvan Falls.”
“You’re not going to stay here again tonight, are you?”
“I don’t expect to, not unless Michael gets worse, which could happen. His attacks usually don’t begin until after eleven, most frequently between midnight and two.”
