25

“I think I’ll take Brenna up to the diner this morning. Will you be all right here?” I called from the bathroom as I shaved. “We can walk. It’s one of those crisp, cozy mornings you love so much.”

Bailey let Brenna walk up there often over the last few days. She seemed to be getting stronger.

“I already stuck my head out the front door. It’s heavenly. Toppy must be burning leaves over at their place. I wish I could have my coffee on the front porch,” Bailey said.

“And why can’t you?” I walked into the bedroom for a shirt and got whooshed in the face with air. Bailey had popped the bedspread into place just as I left the bathroom. “Whoa, there, pardner, you’re lethal with that thing.”

“Getting pretty good at getting things done before the babies wake up, wouldn’t you say?” She tossed the throw pillows into place.

“Yes, and a mite overdoing it. I’ll have to admit, though, you seem stronger, and less,” I began.

“Less stressed. I know. I won’t tell you that it’s totally gone away, the flashbacks and the gunshot, but it’s more manageable. Thanks for being so great about my therapy sessions with Michele.” She started folding laundry that piled high in the rocking chair next to the bed.

The baby detergent fragrance reached my senses. I watched her fold tiny baby things. She wore a long, lacy, what she called ‘nursing’ gown, her light brown hair shining softly in the light of the overhead fixture. Every item or so, she’d glance at Paul and Helen, sleeping soundly in their respective cribs. There it was. The thing I lived for. She smiled.

Bailey looked up at me and then tossed me a few baby clothes. “This isn’t rocket science, Scott. Fold, stack, done.”

I let the laundry fall to the floor and wrapped my arms around her. How did I get so blessed? I could protect her in our little domain, but I couldn’t control what went on in her thoughts. A new level of prayer, and trust, now permeated my days. God was healing her, and He didn’t need my help.

“Why don’t you start the coffee, and I’ll finish up Mount Baby Clothes,” I said.

“Perfect, thanks babe,” she said.

I was rewarded with a kiss that was more like the pre-pregnancy, pre-traumatic tragedy Bailey. She scruffed up my hair, then left the room. A few minutes later, as I folded, the scent of coffee brewing filled the house.

A plan formed, and I had to work fast. I finished folding and put all the little stacks away. Clothes in drawers, diapers in a big basket on the dresser.

Bailey entered the bedroom again. “Can you give me a few minutes before you head out? I want to get dressed.”

“Yep, no problem.”

She grinned at the empty rocking chair, and mouthed ‘thank you’ before she disappeared into the bathroom. I heard the shower start. Perfect. First, Paul. I gingerly picked him up and set him in his carry seat that stayed parked under the crib when not in use. I carried him to the coffee table in the living room and positioned him toward the front window. Good, he didn’t wake up.

Brenna sat curled up on the couch, reading a crochet magazine. She whispered, “Good morning.”

Next, Helen. She squirmed a bit, but stayed asleep as I repeated the carry seat routine with her. I set her next to her brother. I pulled the curtains open as far as they would go, dodged outside onto the porch and positioned Bailey’s favorite rocker sideways, so she could enjoy her coffee and easily see the babies through the window.

“Wanna go to the diner with me this morning?” I whispered to Brenna.

“Yes, that’s awesome. But will Bailey be all right?” she asked.

“She’ll be fine, it’s just for an hour. Run up and get dressed,” I said. “Bailey wants to have her coffee on the porch, but it’s too cold for the babies.”

She nodded, grinned, and tip-toed up the stairs.

I gazed at my babies. “You guys please stay asleep until Mommy drinks her coffee, OK?” I asked in a whisper.

Helen squirmed, but settled.

Bailey’s sweater hung in the hall closet, so I grabbed it on my way to the kitchen. I poured her a giant mug of coffee, fixed it with one teaspoon of sugar. As I walked back down the hall, she came out of the bedroom. Perfect timing.

“What’s this?” she asked, waving her hand from the two carry seats to the open curtains.

“It’s your coffee on the front porch.” I helped her into her sweater and led her outside.

She sat down in the rocker.

“See? You can see them perfectly.”

She smiled as I handed her the coffee. She took a big breath and let it out slowly. “What a luxury. Thanks, Scott.” She took a sip of coffee as if it was the nectar of the gods.

The chill outside reminded me I was in t-shirt and jeans. A minute later I was dressed and back on the porch waiting for Brenna.

She stepped outside, dressed in jeans and a team logo T-shirt, the apron Gwen made her slung over her shoulder.

“You really like the team or are you just trying to impress me?” I asked.

“Tracy gave it to me. She said she and Javier are taking me to a game.”

“I see. Well, that would be fun, and I’m more than a little bit jealous,” I said, reaching for her hand.

“Bailey, Scott’s taking me to the diner today. Will you be OK?” Brenna peeked in the front window at the babies.

Bailey grinned. “It’s ‘pretty nearly practically perfect’ as Anne would say. Have a good time. We’ll be fine.”

Brenna kissed Bailey on the cheek.

As we walked away, I turned to see Bailey rocking, sipping, and looking in the window.

Score!

I glanced sideways at Brenna as we walked to the diner. No labored breathing, no slowing down.

She grinned and rubbed her palm against her nose. “Isn’t it wonderful? Bailey says we have to enjoy it when it actually gets cold. It’s only ever mild weather in winter here.” She shivered.

“Let me give you my jacket,” I said, and began to remove it.

“No, that’s OK. I want to feel it. Besides, it’s not that far.” She skipped ahead of me.

How many times had I heard Bailey say that very thing? They’d risk a head cold just to enjoy dropping temperatures. Silly girls.

She stopped in her tracks and then turned to look at me, her eyes wide. Then I saw it. I jogged to catch up with her.

“Two school buses,” she said. “I can really help today.”

We hurried inside.

Music to my ears. Clinking silverware against ceramic plates, the whoosh of the kitchen doors swinging back and forth, the low murmur of conversation all served to warm my heart. Except the low murmur was more like a buzzing din. Every table was filled to capacity, and nearly every close friend I had in the world flitted around serving tables, even Doc. I noticed a few folks standing against the wall, waiting for service.

Christmas music rang out from the radio on the counter.

“I’m gonna go out to storage and get some more chairs, Brenna,” I said.

“I know what to do. I’ll check with Toppy, then go around and refill coffee,” she said, eyes sparkling. She pulled the apron she’d tossed over her shoulder and put it on.

I tied the back and then headed to the front door. I ran smack into Javier, who came in the front door, two chairs in each hand.

“Oh, sorry. Hope you don’t mind. Toppy told me where to find them.” He stopped cold, a blush creeping over his face. Man, he must have it bad for Tracy. Did he think I disapproved?

“No, I appreciate it. How many more?” I scooted past him to the front door.

“I think maybe six. I’ll be right behind you,” he said.

I watched him set an extra chair at four different tables, then motion some of the standing customers to take a seat. He joined me at the door and we went around back.

“I guess there’s no getting out the back door,” I said, grabbing more chairs from the storage shed.

“No, sir. Hamburgers and salad and chicken flying around in there like a tornado. Mr. Toppy and his wife can really cook it up.” He picked up more chairs.

“What is all that, anyway? They don’t look like kids.”

“No, the bus says Grapeside Christian Church. They are a senior adult group on a trip from Dallas to Jefferson, for the historical tour over there.”

We walked back around to the entrance. “Well, it’ll be great for business. How’d everybody get here so fast?”

“Not sure. I came to have breakfast with Tracy, and Dr. Harkin was already here. Toppy and his wife were already here too. Tracy and her mom came in, then the guys from the washout, then their girlfriends. Miss Phoebe was serving us all breakfast when the busses pulled up,” Javier said.

We went inside and placed more chairs. Finally everyone was seated.

I took orders. I loved how my friends gravitated to the diner. Family. Bailey would love this. I felt a little guilty that we were all here together. It reminded me of when she’d first arrived. A school bus pulled up, and she’d pitched right in and helped. Didn’t even know any of us. That would have been an ideal time to fall in love, but it happened the first time I saw her. “Queen o’ Sheba, Queen o’ Sheba, Queen o’ Sheba,” Dad called her when he first came into the washout to tell me someone waited in the office. Five minutes later Bailey became the Queen of my heart.

I heard the bell on the door ring, and turned to see Bailey coming in the door, a carry seat in each hand.

“Whoa, here let me help you,” I said. I took Paul from her and looked around for a place to put him.

“I got lonesome, so I got us all ready and drove down here, by myself,” she said, glowing with pride.

“I can see that. You could have called,” I said.

“I need to do this by myself. It wasn’t that hard. A little logistically challenging with two, but we made it.” She blew her bangs with a “whew”.

“Over here, ma’am, we’re done already,” an older man in a gray polo shirt said. He and a few other men rose and motioned Bailey over to their table, which was close to the counter.

We headed that way, and Bailey plopped down in the chair. “That’s a workout, I’ll tell ya.”

“I know. Let me situate the littles and I’ll bring you a cup of coffee.”

“Just a half cup, please,” she said. “Don’t want too much caffeine while nursing, and I’ve already had one at the house.”

I nodded, the babies came first. Soon, I’d positioned the carry seats in two upside down boosters. Oh, the hacks one learned when children come along. I glanced at Bailey before I went for coffee. She looked a little pale, and her eyes seemed red. “What’s the matter, Bailey, you OK?”

She leaned her chin on one hand, and the grabbed a napkin from the dispenser with the other. “Not bad, really, and I hate to say anything after you went to so much trouble, but,” she began, but stopped.

I sat down in the empty chair. “What, Beloved?”

She sighed and shook her head. “The front porch, where he snatched me from. The thought ruined the beautiful moment you created for me.” Tears welled up. “Will I ever be able to separate my memories from the things, the places I love so much?”

I’d gotten over the desire to kill the dead man, but I still had to deal with anger sometimes. How could I fix it? “I’ll build you another house, and we’ll make new memories.”

She blinked and raised her head.

I couldn’t read her expression. Maybe she thought that wasn’t the answer. I guess my timing wasn’t exactly perfect. But I would build her a house, and do my best to make her happy there. “Remember, Michele said it’s a process. We’ll just keep walking through it, OK? Together.” I reached for her hand and squeezed it.

“Yes, that’s true. She’s really been a help to both Brenna and me. I’m hoping and praying Brenna can get a handle on things. I’d like her to grow up without the same crippling hurts I had.” Tears spilled over.

“Prayer can do it, and we know it can, right?”

She smiled and wiped her tears. “Coffee.”

“Right, be right back.”

Two cups of coffee in hand, I returned to the table and found David sitting with them. “Hey, man.” I set my cup of coffee in front of him. No available chairs, so I leaned against the counter.

“Hey, and thanks for the coffee. Listen, Bailey, see Melissa way over there by the front door, waving at you?” He pointed across the room.

“Yes, she’s back! But why doesn’t she come over?” Bailey waved back, and blew Melissa a kiss.

“She’s had a really bad cold, and still has it. I don’t want her around the babies. I relegated her to the far corner by herself, with strict orders to stay away from you and Brenna.”

“Ack. I really miss her. How’s her mom?” Bailey craned her neck to wave at Melissa again, and point to a nearby table where Brenna was pouring coffee. She mouthed, “That’s Brenna.”

Melissa nodded and put her hand over her heart. She mouthed back, “She’s beautiful!”

“Her mom is much better, but I was afraid Melissa would stay with her through the holidays. I seriously want her here for Christmas.” David shifted in his seat, and took a sip of his coffee.

“And why might that be?” Bailey asked, with a mysterious wink at me.

“Bout time, Doc,” I said. I might have to get that suit out again.

The conversation turned to plans for the hospital Christmas party. David asked Bailey’s advice on a gift for Gwen. His phone buzzed in his pocket. He took it out. “Text from Melissa. I guess she’s ready to go home, or jealous of me getting to talk to you guys so near the babies.” He read the text, and then stood up so quickly his chair fell over.

“What in the world?” I followed him.

He rushed toward Brenna, who was sitting on the floor.

I’d never seen skin so white. He knelt on the floor beside her. “Brenna, what’s the matter?”

She didn’t answer.

“Call 911!” He yelled, while taking her pulse. “Wait, never mind. It will be faster if we drive her there. He scooped her up in his arms and made his way to the front door.

“What’s wrong?” Bailey called over the crowd that had gathered around the scene.

“Please, everyone back to your seats,” I said, and to Bailey, “Brenna’s sick. David’s driving her to the hospital. I’ll go with him.” I followed David to his car. He put her in the back seat and I got in with her, putting her head in my lap.

“Drive!” I yelled at David, who tore out of the parking lot.

“David, she’s not conscious now.” I patted her cheeks. “Brenna, honey, wake up.”

No response.