Mother's Promise (22 page)

I
t had not taken long for Justin to realize that the reason Derek Piper had accepted him into his group of friends was that Justin was good at math. So he certainly did not need Sally Shepherd lecturing him on that subject.

“I'm helping him with math. So what?” They were waiting for the school bus together—a situation that Justin had tried his best to avoid without success.

“You are
doing
his math for him,” Sally corrected him. As usual she wore clothes that covered her from head to foot and one of her collection of stupid hats. In Justin's view, the way she dressed was one more way she stood out in a crowd. “He won't thank you for it,” she continued, “and if Mr. Mortimer catches on, it's for sure that Derek Piper won't take the blame.”

“Are you gonna tell?”

The bus arrived at that moment, and without another word Sally mounted the steps, exchanged a cheery greeting with the bus driver—who like everyone else seemed to think the girl was some kind of angel or something—and took a seat next to one of her girlfriends.

Justin walked past her toward the back of the bus where the last two rows were empty and he could hold places for Derek and the other guys. He slouched down in one of the seats and stared at Sally. Like the bus driver and Mr. Mortimer and pretty much everybody else, his mom thought Sally could do no wrong. His mom had gone on and on one day about how very sick Sally had been and how brave she'd been through it all and stuff like that. She sure didn't look sick, and she had an appetite that was enormous.

And besides, what about
his
courage in the way he'd handled himself after his dad died and through this whole business of moving to Florida? What about the way
he
had to smile and act like it didn't matter that his mom had almost no time for him at all now that they were here. She was always studying for some test or course she had to take or she was at work or she got a call in the middle of the night and had to go back to the hospital. What about that?

The bus squealed to its final stop before they reached the school and Derek got on with his best buddies, Max and Connor. Derek was in the lead, and when the bus driver told him to keep his voice down, Derek started speaking in an exaggerated whisper that had everyone on the bus giggling.

Everyone except Sally. She simply ignored him.

Derek paused next to her seat. She was on the aisle, her back to him. She was talking to her friend, but her friend's eyes were on Derek. The bus made a wide turn, and Derek lost his balance and fell heavily against Sally. When he regained his footing, Justin saw that he was grinning and knew that he had lost his balance on purpose.

“Are you all right?” His voice dripped with false concern. “Good thing you've got all that extra padding or I might have really hurt you.” He was still grinning as he continued on his way and flung himself into the seat next to Justin. “Hey J-man, got that math homework done?”

Justin saw Sally glance back at them. She was rubbing her shoulder, and she was looking directly at Justin. He felt bad about what Derek had said about her weight, but he also had no doubt that she had heard Derek's question about the math homework. It was all there in the way that she arched her eyebrows, questioning Justin's next move.

With deliberate slowness he pulled his math notebook out of his backpack and handed it over to Derek. He had stayed up late making notes he thought Derek could follow to help him find the answers. He called them
study sheets
and told himself that he was helping Derek understand the problem so that when he had to figure it out on his own on a test he would be able to do it.

So let her tell on him if she dared. He'd take that risk. If the cost of having Derek and the others as his friends—his only friends—was helping them out so they kept up in math, it was worth it. Besides, he was pretty sure Sally wouldn't tell. After all no matter how popular a kid was, nobody trusted a tattler.

When Ben had looked up while dancing with Darcy and seen Rachel peering over the auditorium's balcony, he had actually stumbled a little and narrowly missed stepping on Darcy's exposed toes.

Darcy had laughed. “Easy there. I'm going to need those toes later.”

Ben had turned her so that his back was to the balcony. He realized that he was not only surprised to see Rachel standing there, her white prayer covering unmistakable even in the soft candlelight, but he also realized that the novelty of her in this setting had unnerved him. For the rest of that evening—although he did not see Rachel again—he could not seem to get her out of his mind. And in his dreams later that night it wasn't Darcy he was dancing with—he was holding Rachel in his arms.

In the days that followed, on those rare occasions when their paths crossed at the hospital, he tripped over his greeting as he had stumbled on the dance floor that evening. Rachel remained her usual serene self during these brief encounters, her smile warm and open, and, as Paul Cox was given to exclaiming, “a breath of pure fresh air in these sometimes difficult surroundings.”

In the monthly meeting of department heads that Ben had just left, Paul had made it crystal clear that in his opinion they could not have chosen a better candidate for the spiritual counselor position. “The woman is a wonder,” he declared in that voice that was better suited to the pulpit than the conference room. And Ben had seen Darcy wince as Paul went on to enumerate all the ways that in six short weeks Rachel Kaufmann had established herself as a “pure blessing to this place.”

“Ben, wait up.”

He turned at the sound of Darcy's heels on the tiled floor. Ever since the run followed by the charity ball he had worked hard at keeping his interactions with Darcy outside the hospital as casual as possible. And to his relief she seemed fine with that, to the point that he'd decided he must have misread their kiss in the parking lot.

“Going my way?” He grinned as he waited for her to catch up to him.

But Darcy was in full business mode—the thin line of her mouth told him as much.

“Hey, what's up?”

“Can we grab a cup of coffee? I need to talk to you about something—something I was reluctant to mention in the meeting.”

“Sounds serious.” They had reached the entrance to the small coffee bar in the lobby. It was fairly deserted at this time of day, and Ben indicated that Darcy should choose a table while he got their coffee. When he set the cup in front of her and pushed the dish containing packets of sweetener toward her, she was staring out the window.

“Thanks. I needed this.” She laughed and added, “Intravenously would be even more helpful.”

“Looks like what you need is a break. What's going on?”

She leaned closer, glancing around as if afraid of being overheard. “Houston, we have a problem,” she murmured, “and her name is Rachel Kaufmann.”

Ben could not have been more surprised if Darcy had suddenly spilled her hot coffee all over him. “Rachel? But Paul said …”

Darcy snorted and gave a dismissive wave of her hand. “Paul thinks the woman practically walks on water. That's part of the problem. He believes that her going through certification and getting her license is a mere formality. He can't seem to stop praising her.”

“And
your
problem is …?” Ben was surprised to realize that he was feeling a little defensive when the fact was that he knew next to nothing about how she was doing her job.

“I didn't want to mention it before—I mean she is living with your sister and Malcolm.”

“But?”

Darcy took a deep breath and dived in. “A few weeks ago I was doing my weekly tour of the various departments. Imagine my shock to see Zeke Shepherd playing his guitar for the children on the children's ward—in the activity room.”

“Okay, now you've lost me. What's that got to do with Rachel?”

“She invited him—without Paul's approval apparently. Oh, he approved the idea of musical entertainment for the children, but Zeke? No way would he ever have—”

“Why not?”

Her eyes bugged at this question. Her mouth worked, but no words came out. Finally she managed, “You are joking.”

“Not so much.” Ben took a sip of his coffee. “What's your problem with Zeke? I've heard him play and sing—he's talented and especially good with children.”

“He is a street person, as in he lives on the street, takes his meals out of trash bins, sleeps on park benches or under bushes, and who knows how or where he manages to bathe or shower.”

“Whoa!” Ben held up his hands to stop her tirade. “First of all, Zeke has a steady job at the fruit co-op that the Steiners run—and that my brother-in-law funds. Second, I'll grant you that he prefers sleeping out under the stars and I have no idea where he gets his meals or does his personal grooming, but the fact remains that any time I've seen him he is always clean-shaven and dressed in albeit ill-fitting but freshly laundered clothes.”

He paused when he saw tears glistening on the rims of Darcy's eyes. “Hey, sorry.” He lowered his voice. “Please explain to me why this has you so upset.”

“I don't know. It's her. I have this uneasy feeling about her. I know that's totally unprofessional, but I'm usually right about these things. True there was no real harm, but when she goes out on her own and pulls a stunt like this she is not only putting the children in danger of picking up some germ or infection that man might be carrying but she's also endangering the entire hospital. What if a reporter had been here or a TV journalist?”

“You're talking in riddles, Darcy.”

She cupped her hand as if holding a microphone. “We're here at the newly opened Gulf Coast Hospital where this reporter was stunned to see Sarasota's own well-known street musician and homeless veteran, Zeke Shepherd, entertaining the children. Given the outbreak of cryptosporidium that spread through the homeless population after last year's hurricane, this reporter had to question—”

“Okay, I get it. So talk to Rachel and help her to understand why—”

“I did.”

“And?”

“Oh, you know how she is—all sweetness and light. She told me that Paul had given his permission but that it was her responsibility since Paul did not know that she was going to invite Zeke.”

“Okay, so we're back to square one. What's the problem? Seems to me you handled it.” Ben took another swallow of his coffee.

“But don't you think—I mean, she placed the hospital in danger.”

Ben could see that what Darcy had really wanted was for him to be as incensed by Rachel's action as she was. But he really couldn't see the harm. There had to be more behind Darcy's fury.

“Hey, it's over,” he said. “She didn't set the place on fire. There was no reporter or television camera. Zeke didn't infect the children, and you covered the chance for any liability by writing Rachel up for the infraction, right? It wasn't her best choice, but her heart was in the right place. I mean, we want an environment that brings the world to children isolated by their illness, don't we?”

“I suppose. But …”

Ben grinned at her, trying to lighten the moment. “Come on, admit it. You hate being wrong about somebody and from day one you were sure that Rachel was the wrong person for this job. Admit that she's good, Meekins, and move on.” He reached across the small round table and patted her hand.

She let out a deep shuddering sigh and went so far as to give him a slight nod. “You're right. I worry so much about the hospital and getting our reputation solidly established. Rachel Kaufmann isn't the only one on probation here. I mean, this whole hospital has to shine.”

“And that's exactly why the board hired you,” Ben assured her. He glanced at his watch and stood up. “I have rounds. You okay?”

“Sure. Thanks for listening.”

“What are friends for? Maybe I'll see you later, after work? Some of the other doctors plan to check out that new Italian place in the Rosemary District.”

Her demeanor turned on a dime. She smiled up at him. “Why, Dr. Booker, are you asking me out?”

“Actually, maybe the best idea would be to ask Rachel to join us. If the two of you got better acquainted outside the hospital …”

Her eyes clouded over and her smile faded. “You know, I completely forgot. I have a previous engagement. Another time maybe.”

Without another word she got up and went to refill her coffee mug before heading back to her office.