Debbie Macomber_Blossom Street 04 (11 page)

“Okay.”

Anne Marie left the room and eased the door partially closed so she’d hear if Ellen needed her during the night. She found a night-light for the bathroom and plugged it in.

Sitting at her small kitchen table, Anne Marie inhaled a deep, calming breath. Elise Beaumont had a lot to answer for—and she planned to let her know it. This Lunch Buddy business had become a far more complicated proposition than Anne Marie had been led to expect.

She liked Ellen and she was happy to help—well,
happy
might be an exaggeration. She felt
obliged
to help, especially since the child’s grandmother claimed she didn’t have anyone else to ask. But in the morning, Anne Marie was driving Ellen to school and getting the name of the contact person listed for emergencies.

This was standard practice. The school would have the name of a responsible adult who’d take Ellen while her grandmother was in the hospital. Someone far more qualified than Anne Marie. Someone better equipped to look after a frightened child.

Anne Marie had her own problems. And as much as she wanted to help, she wasn’t prepared to be the child’s guardian for more than one night.

A
nne Marie woke before the alarm buzzed at seven and discovered Ellen sitting up in bed petting Baxter and talking to him in a voice that quavered slightly.

“Good morning,” Anne Marie said as cheerfully as she could. She stretched her arms high above her head.

Ellen didn’t respond.

“Would you like some orange juice?”

The girl shook her head.

“Are you sure?”

Ellen nodded.

“I’m going to take Baxter for a short walk. Do you want to come?”

“Okay.” Ellen climbed out of bed and sat on the floor, where she’d left her backpack. While the child got dressed, Anne Marie prepared a pot of coffee and put on a pair of sweat pants and a fleece top.

Her usual morning routine was to take Baxter out while the coffee brewed, getting a few minutes of exercise at the same time. Their route never varied: down Blossom Street
for two blocks, crossing over to a small park, going around the park twice and then back. The entire walk took twenty minutes. Once she was home again, Anne Marie always showered, changed clothes and did her hair and makeup. On a good day, everything could be accomplished in under an hour.

Ellen was ready by the time Anne Marie finished her first cup of coffee and pulled on her jacket.

“Would you like to hold the leash?” she asked.

“Yes, please.”

As they headed outside, she asked Ellen a few more questions but the girl remained glum and uncommunicative. She wanted to ask Ellen what was wrong but figured it was obvious. The poor kid was worried about her grandmother, of course, and her own future. Anne Marie couldn’t blame her for that, so she decided to tread carefully. If Ellen didn’t want to talk, she shouldn’t have to.

“When I take you to school this morning, I’m going to see the school counselor,” Anne Marie said as they returned to the apartment.

“Okay.”

“Do you have any relatives close by?”

“My aunt Clarisse.”

That was a big relief, although Anne Marie had to wonder why Ellen’s grandmother hadn’t called her instead. Of course, there could be any number of reasons. Clarisse might’ve been out of town or at work or not answering her phone or…she ran out of excuses.

Anne Marie was confident that as soon as Clarisse learned that Dolores had been hospitalized, she’d be eager to have Ellen. Some of the tension left her now that she had the name of a responsible adult who’d step in and take care of the child.

When they entered the apartment, Anne Marie checked
her watch. Twenty-four minutes so far. That was good, especially with an eight-year-old in tow.

“What would you like for breakfast?” Anne Marie asked as they stepped into the kitchen.

Ellen shrugged.

“I don’t have any kid cereals, but I do have shredded wheat. Would you like that?” Ellen had to be hungry, since she’d gone without dinner the night before.

“Okay. Thank you.”

While Anne Marie got two bowls, the cereal and milk, Ellen made her bed and brushed her hair. It was straight and dark, parted in the middle with bangs that needed to be trimmed. If she’d had any little-girl hair clips, Anne Marie would’ve used them.

Ellen ate only a small portion of her breakfast and then placed her bowl in the sink. It was a bit early to drop her off at school, but Anne Marie wanted to be sure she had plenty of time to talk to the counselor.

“Are you ready to go?” she asked.

“Yes,” Ellen replied. “Will you find out about Grandma Dolores?”

“I’ll phone the hospital this morning,” Anne Marie promised. She’d do it before ten, when the bookstore opened.

When Anne Marie and Ellen arrived at the school, the playground was already crowded with youngsters. The yellow buses had started to pull up, and students in bright jackets leaped down the few steps, like water cascading over a ledge. They all wore gigantic backpacks that threatened to topple them.

“Would you show me where the office is?” Anne Marie asked Ellen. She wanted the little girl to feel needed.

“Okay.” Ellen silently led the way down the school’s wide corridor.

“Would you like to play with your friends now?”

Ellen hesitated as if uncertain.

“Everything’s going to be fine,” Anne Marie assured her. “I’ll call about your grandmother and let you know later.”

Ellen’s eyes brightened and she nodded, then ran off.

Watching Ellen join her friends, Anne Marie walked into the office; she asked to speak to Helen Mayer and within five minutes was escorted into the other woman’s office.

“Is everything okay?” Helen asked immediately, a small frown between her eyes.

“Not really…” Anne Marie described the events of the night before.

Incredulous, the counselor stared at her. “Oh, my goodness.”

“As you can imagine, this has all been a shock.” Anne Marie pinned her gaze on the other woman. “I wonder how she got my phone number.”

“Actually I gave it to her,” Helen admitted a bit sheepishly. “She phoned last week and asked for it and I couldn’t see any reason not to tell her. She said she wanted to talk to you about Ellen.”

To be fair, the school counselor couldn’t have known that Dolores would call in the middle of the night and place Anne Marie in such an awkward position. “I’m going to need the emergency contact number in Ellen’s file,” Anne Marie told her.

“Yes, of course.” Helen turned to her computer and began to type. After a couple of minutes, she said, “The name is Clarisse McDonald.” She reached for a pen and quickly wrote down the number.

Anne Marie took the piece of paper. As soon as she learned about Dolores’s condition, she’d be in touch with Ellen’s aunt.

“Do you know what hospital the paramedics took Dolores to?” the counselor asked.

At the time Anne Marie hadn’t been thinking clearly enough to inquire, but she’d heard one of the EMTs mention Virginia Mason Hospital, which wasn’t far from Blossom Street.

She was telling Helen Mayer this when a bell rang in the distance, indicating the start of classes. The sound caught Anne Marie off guard and she jerked in surprise.

“You get used to the bell,” Helen said. “After a while you don’t even hear it.” She smiled. “You were telling me Dolores is at Virginia Mason?”

“Yes, I think so.” Anne Marie would visit the hospital first. If she hurried, she should be able to make it there and get back to the store before ten.

She stood. “I’ll call you as soon as I know anything.”

“Thanks,” Helen said as she walked Anne Marie to the office door.

Before Anne Marie left the building, she decided to check on Ellen. She stood by the classroom door and peeked in to see Ellen chatting with her friends as if nothing was awry. Relieved, she went out to the parking lot.

When Anne Marie reached Virginia Mason Hospital it was already nine-fifteen. She explained her situation to the woman at the information counter, who gave her Dolores Falk’s room number.

She took the elevator to the correct floor and found Dolores alone in her room, hooked up to IV tubes. Her color seemed improved, Anne Marie thought. When she walked in, Dolores opened her eyes.

“How are you feeling, Mrs. Falk?” she asked as she approached the side of the bed.

“I’m doing better. How’s Ellen?”

“She’s fine. Don’t worry about her.”

Tears welled in the older woman’s eyes. “I can’t thank you enough for taking my granddaughter. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t come.”

“I’m glad to help out.” Never mind that it wasn’t entirely true.

Dolores’s chest rose with a sigh. “The doctor says I’m going to need heart surgery.”

Anne Marie squeezed the woman’s hand. “They have excellent doctors here and—”

“I’m not worried for me,” Dolores said, cutting her off. “My only concern is Ellen.”

“You just concentrate on getting well. I have the number for Ellen’s aunt Clarisse and—”

“No!” Dolores cut her off again. Her fingers tightened on Anne Marie’s.

“She’s the emergency contact you gave the school. So I—”

“Clarisse is in prison.”

“Prison?”
Anne Marie swallowed her gasp of shock.

“Fraud.” Dolores closed her eyes again, as if admitting this to Anne Marie embarrassed her. Anne Marie was sure it did.

“What about Ellen’s mother?”

Tears rolled from the corners of the woman’s eyes and fell onto the pillow that supported her head. “Her mother is a drug addict. The state of California took Ellen away from her when she was three years old. I’d lost contact with my daughter—I didn’t even know about Ellen. By the time I learned I had a granddaughter, Ellen had gone through a series of foster homes. It took me a year to get that child to sleep through the night. I won’t put her back in the system. I won’t do that to her.”

“Oh, dear…” Anne Marie said weakly. There didn’t seem to be an adequate response.

“Whatever happens to me, don’t let them put her in foster care.”

Her agitation grew and Anne Marie began to worry. “Promise me,” she pleaded. “Promise me.”

“Of course.” What else could she say?

Dolores relaxed a little after that.

“What about her father?”

Dolores shook her head grimly. “My daughter probably doesn’t even know who fathered this child.”

“Oh.”

“There’s no one else.”

“Perhaps her mother’s clean and sober now.” Anne Marie hated to sound desperate, but the options were dwindling fast.

“She’s not. Last year she rescinded all rights as Ellen’s mother.”

“Oh.” Anne Marie could feel what was coming. Dolores would ask her to watch Ellen while she was in the hospital. A rush of excuses, a dozen valid reasons she couldn’t do it, were on the tip of her tongue. She couldn’t make herself say them.

“That child is the only good thing I have in my life,” Dolores whispered brokenly. “My daughters have both chosen paths that led to spiritual and emotional ruin. I pray for them every day.”

“I’m sure you do, but—”

“I don’t understand where I went wrong. Their father left us twenty years ago, and I raised them alone. I tried to show them the right way…”

Anne Marie murmured a few comforting words, although she knew there was no comfort to be had.

“I’ve been a proud woman all my life,” Dolores continued. “I’ve never asked the government for help, even when I was entitled to.”

With her free hand Anne Marie gripped the steel bar along the side of the bed.

“I’m asking for your help now.”

Anne Marie swallowed. “But…I’m a stranger.”

“Ellen talks about you constantly. You and Baxter.” The faint hint of a smile came to her then.

Anne Marie was surprised she got a mention. She’d assumed the real attraction had been the dog. “But…I’m just her Lunch Buddy,” she murmured.

“You’re much more than that,” Dolores told her. “Please take my precious Ellen and look after her for me.”

“I…” Anne Marie didn’t know what to say. Her place wasn’t set up to take care of a child. She didn’t even have a real bed for Ellen. After living alone all these months—more than a year now—she wasn’t sure how she’d adjust to living with someone else. With a child.

At her obvious reluctance, Dolores said, “The doctor said once I have the surgery I should be good as new.”

“You’ll need recuperation time.” Mentally Anne Marie tried to calculate how long that might be. A week? Two? Maybe a month. She couldn’t possibly deal with this awkward situation for a whole month.

“Yes, I’ll need time to heal,” Dolores agreed, “but it’ll go much faster if I know Ellen is well taken care of.” She gazed up at Anne Marie with wide, imploring eyes. When Anne Marie didn’t immediately respond, Dolores added, “Please. I’m asking you from my heart. I’m begging you not to let them take my granddaughter away from me.”

Anne Marie couldn’t refuse. “All right,” she said, hoping she didn’t sound begrudging—or afraid.

Dolores released a huge sigh. “Thank you, Lord.” She pointed to the side table next to her bed. “I’ve written out a statement that gives you permission to see to any medical needs Ellen might have. I also wrote a statement authorizing you to keep Ellen while I’m in the hospital.”

An orderly stepped into the room. “Ready, Mrs. Falk?” he asked far too cheerfully.

“Where are you taking her?” Anne Marie asked.

The young man raised his eyebrows. “Surgery.”

“So soon?”

“I’ll be fine,” Dolores said. “Absolutely fine.”

Anne Marie felt dreadful; she should’ve been the one consoling the other woman.

“I’ll take care of Ellen,” she promised with a sense of desperation. “Just get well.”

The young man directed Anne Marie to the nurses’ station, where she was given a phone number to check on Dolores’s progress after the surgery. Anne Marie held on to that piece of paper as if it were a winning lottery ticket. “She’ll be okay, won’t she?” she asked the male nurse.

The burly man sent her a stoic look. “We’re going to do everything we can to make sure she’s home again as soon as possible.”

That was supposed to reassure her? “Thank you,” she said lamely. “I’ll phone later this afternoon.”

“I’ll have an update for you then. Ask for Dana.”

“I will. Thank you.” She put the phone number, plus the signed papers Dolores had mentioned, in her purse and left the hospital.

By the time she got to her car, Anne Marie’s stomach was so tense she actually felt nauseous. Yesterday after
noon she’d been working out at Go Figure, the women’s gym on Blossom Street, with Barbie Foster. Less than a day later, she was responsible for the care and well-being of an eight-year-old child.

At the bookstore, Anne Marie turned over the Open sign and counted out cash for the register. She had a constant flow of customers until about one o’clock, when she called the school and spoke to Helen Mayer.

“What did you find out?”

“Ellen’s grandmother had heart surgery this morning.”

“How’s she doing?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t spoken to anyone at the hospital yet. I wanted to update you, though—Ellen will be staying with me while her grandmother recuperates.”

“With you? What about her aunt Clarisse?”

“Apparently she…she’s moved and can’t be reached.” That was reasonably close to the truth and should spare Dolores some humiliation.