Hope read the article again. Sean was truly a gifted writer. She still couldn’t believe the subject of the story was her, and this magazine was read all across the country. Several of the nurses and doctors at the hospital today had commented on the article. She had debated all day about calling Sean to thank him and compliment his writing. But, would that be disastrous? No, she was just being courteous and showing her gratitude. She punched Sean’s number and her stomach fluttered at the first ring.
“Hope, how are you?”
“I’m doing really well and you?”
“Good too.”
“I just had to call…” A commotion stopped Hope.
“I’m sorry. Could you hold on a moment?”
“Sure.”
Sean’s muffled voice came across the phone. She cupped her forehead. He wasn’t alone. How embarrassing. Stay in control. She had called for a reason.
“Sorry.”
“That’s all right. I don’t mean to interrupt. I just wanted to thank you for the article. It was nicely done.”
“I’m so glad you’re pleased. Listen, I hate to go so quickly, but I’m a little tied up.”
“Oh, yeah, sure.”
Hope slouched in her glider rocker. Why had she called? Now she felt foolish. Sean obviously had company of the female persuasion. Why was she so shocked? It had been a couple of months. She picked up her latest crochet shawl project. Just forget about him.
* * *
Sean hated to cut Hope off with such haste, but he was trying to get Grace settled into the guest room. He had considered contacting Hope over the last few months but had never brought himself to do it, and he wasn’t ready to admit this new development to Hope either. She would truly think he was a heathen now.
Grace’s eyes drooped, and she rubbed them with her fists.
“Here, I’ll help you onto the bed.” He deposited her right in the middle. “It’s a little high.”
Her mouth opened in a huge yawn. “I need my jammies.”
“Where are they?”
She pointed. “Pink bag.”
Sean knelt and unzipped the small suitcase. He glanced back at Grace. “What do they look like?”
“Purple with a princess on it.”
He moved folded garments until he spotted something purple. When he pulled the pajamas out, something else came out. His breath caught in his throat. A soft blue shawl. It had to be one of Hope’s. But, how…? He stood. “Grace, what is this?”
Grace’s face lit with a sleepy grin. “That’s a prayer shawl.”
“Where did you get it?”
“From the nurse at the hospital when I had my tonsils out.”
Grace struggled with getting her shirt over her head. Sean set the shawl aside and helped as best as he could. By the time she cuddled her bear and laid her head on the pillow, she was asleep. Her face was angelic with the bedside lamp’s glow radiating from her cheeks.
He tiptoed back to the living room and plopped onto the couch with a sigh.
What a day! There was a lot to work out. And, how ironic to discover one of Hope’s prayer shawls. His eyelids were suddenly heavy. He would just stretch out here for a few minutes.
He jolted awake. Wailing sobs came from the guest room. He jumped to his feet, and his head swam momentarily. Finally steady, he sprinted down the short hall.
Grace sat cross-legged, rocking back and forth. Sean could now make out her words. She was calling out for her mommy. Each sob pricked his heart. His chest tightened. He slid onto the bed next to her and slipped an arm around her little shoulders. She leaned into him and scooted closer. Her body shook, and many sobs came out in hiccups. He had to calm her. Sean pulled her onto his lap, and she laid her head on his chest. Her arms wrapped around his sides. He returned the embrace and rubbed her back.
Her crying calmed, and then her shoulders slumped. She was finally back to sleep. He tried to move her from his lap and lay her again on the pillow, but she startled awake. Sean pulled her close again. Her breathing evened out. Finally, he just eased back, letting her settle onto his chest.
Sean woke to find Grace on her knees at his side, staring at him.
“Are you awake?” Her question was voiced with a whining tone.
He rubbed a hand down his face. “I think so.”
She propped her elbows on his ribs and leaned her chin on her fists. “Are you hungry?”
Sean stifled a laugh. “Yep, I believe I am. What do you like to eat for breakfast?”
“Well, I think I want peanut butter toast. Do you like that? I can show you how to make it.” Her eyes widened.
“Okay.” He sat up.
Grace shimmied off the bed. “Come on.” She extended her hand, palm up and flipped her fingers back-and-forth in a “follow me” gesture.
Sean chuckled and followed her to the kitchen. This kid could certainly be irresistibly cute.
How could he raise a child? Where would Grace fit into his life? Then again, where could Grace go? He had always been independent, never tied down, able to go and to do whatever he wanted when the whim hit him. He needed help.