Read A Sister's Promise (Promises) Online
Authors: Karen Lenfestey
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
The desperation in Nancy’s voice on the answering machine convinced Kate to mute
Regis & Kelly
. Nancy was mid-sentence when Kate picked up.
“Hello?” Kate cleared her throat and tried again. “Hello?”
“Thank God you’re there,” Nancy’s voice quivered. “Lance was in a car accident.”
“Oh, no. Is he OK?”
“I don’t know. The hospital just called and they made it sound pretty serious. I’m on my way out the door, but I need someone to watch Sammy. Could you. . .?”
Kate’s first reaction was to say no. Looking down at pajamas stained with strawberry jelly, she realized she hadn’t showered in days.
“I could drop him off at your place,” Nancy continued, “or it might be easier if you just came over here. That way he could sleep in his crib and you’d have plenty of diapers.”
Diapers. Kate wasn’t sure she really knew how to change a diaper.
“I hate to ask you, Kate, but I can’t get a hold of anyone else.”
Of course. Who else would be sitting at home with nothing to do in the middle of the day? Kate may have won the battle with Mrs. B, but Mr. Mohr informed her she had lost the tenure war.
“Sure, Nancy. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
# # #
When she opened the door, Nancy looked awful, even worse than Kate imagined. Few things were more heartbreaking than seeing a pregnant woman in tears.
Kate hugged her. “I’m so sorry.”
Nancy sniffled and nodded, unable to speak. Then she pointed to Sammy, who was playing with blocks on the living room floor. “I wrote down some stuff so you have an idea what to feed him and when to put him down for his nap.” She handed her a piece of paper. She seemed reluctant to leave. Based on the uneasiness Kate felt, Nancy was right to hesitate.
“Oh, he knows baby sign. So if he does this,” Nancy said, taking her hand and putting it to her mouth, “he’s hungry. This means he wants milk.” She opened and closed her hand as if she were milking a cow. “And this means ‘all done’,” she shook her hands as if they were wet and she couldn’t find a towel on which to dry them.
Kate figured Sammy would know how to talk by now. After all, he was one year old that last time she visited and that was months ago.
Nancy hurried over to Sammy and gave him a kiss on the forehead. “Mommy has to go bye-bye.” He didn’t look up. “Thanks again, Kate.”
“No problem,” Kate said, trying to sound confident.
When the door clicked shut, Sammy’s eyelids pulled wide. He stared at the empty spot his mom had left and wailed.
Kate dropped the notebook paper and rushed over to him. She stiffly patted him on the back. Nancy’s car roared to life outside. “It’s OK. Your mommy had to go somewhere, but I’ll take care of you.” The crying didn’t stop.
The poor kid doesn’t remember me
. “Look!” She picked up one of his blocks and stacked it. He watched her, but continued wailing. She took another and made a tower. He swatted at it and knocked them all to the floor, which somehow managed to make him even angrier.
Oh my God! Make him stop!
Desperate, Kate retreated to the kitchen to read Nancy’s advice. Before she grabbed the note, she spotted a graham cracker box on the counter. Food. Kids like food.
She rushed to the living room and handed Sammy a square wafer. He threw it onto the carpet and jumped up and down in frustration. He ratcheted the volume up a notch, in case she didn’t appreciate how upset he was.
Finally, she picked him up to see if she could comfort him. She placed him against her chest. He kept sobbing. She walked and bounced him at the same time. The way she’d seen mothers do at the mall. She patted his back and paced the floor for what seemed like an eternity. Her arm started to fatigue long before he calmed down. It felt like an hour. In the end, he inhaled with three little jerks, trying to catch his breath after having endured major emotional turmoil.
“Don’t you worry, Sammy. We’re going to have fun today,” she said, trying to convince herself as much as him. She carried him over to the window where she pointed at a bluebird. She continued bouncing him gently while they looked outside. The bird flew from one branch to another, mesmerizing Sammy. Eventually, Sammy started squirming. She gladly placed him back on the floor. He ran across the room and pulled a stuffed rabbit out of his toy box.
Then she felt it. Her shoulder was cold and wet from his snot. When would she ever learn?
She strode to the kitchen and tried in vain to dry her collar with a paper towel. At least her shirt was machine washable this time.
Sammy dropped the rabbit on the floor. He peered into his toy bin and grabbed a toy car with both hands. It was red with big black wheels like an all-terrain vehicle. He sat down, babbling to himself and pushing the car in circles around his body.
Kate’s eyes took in the room. Several board books with the corners chewed off rested on the floor. They had silly titles like
Mr. Brown Can Moo, Can you?
and
Good Night Moon
. As if the blocks, rabbit and car were not enough, plenty more toys littered the floor.
Should she clean up? Yes, she felt compelled to. But wait—what if in the absence of toys Sammy expected her to entertain him? She shook her head, having absolutely no idea what to do with him.
She clutched Nancy’s notes in her hand, hoping for more guidance. Lunch at 12:30, Nap at 1:30, No TV. What were they going to do all day?
Kate sat on the couch and crossed her arms. She studied Sammy as if he were a science experiment. He stacked his blocks, then rammed his toy car into them, laughing at his destructive abilities. Compared to Graciella, he was the Tasmanian Devil.
She thought of Lance in the hospital. She hoped he was going to be alright. Sammy needed his dad—deserved to have a dad. He was so young, what would he even remember of his father if he lost him now? At least she’d had ten years with her dad. A wave of sadness crashed against her.
She pushed away the feeling. Now wasn’t the time for that. She spotted some magazines on a table and hoped they could distract her. The stack included
Parents, Ladies’ Home Journal
, and
Good Housekeeping
. Ugh. Could Nancy be any more domestic?
Sammy walked onto the kitchen linoleum carrying a block in each hand. Kate heard him drop them and giggle. She opened up
Ladies’ Home Journal
and turned to the page about hosting a Mother’s Day brunch. The toddler picked up more blocks in the living room then returned to the kitchen, this time they made a louder crash. She cringed and re-read the first sentence.
After several more crashes, it got quiet. Finally, she could concentrate on her reading.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sammy tugging on a lamp cord. “No!” Too late. He started to place the plug in his mouth, but Kate bolted forward and pulled it away just in time. She inserted it back into the outlet, Sammy started to pull on it again.
“No.”
Reach.
“NO.”
Reach.
She picked him up and placed him across the room. He wobbled at top speed, his hands outstretched toward the cord. This went on and on. Finally, Kate decided to strap him in his highchair and eat lunch. She hoisted him onto her hip and walked into the kitchen. A sharp pain shot through her heel and she flinched, almost dropping Sammy. She looked down to see she had stepped on one of his blocks. They dappled the floor like a giant kaleidoscope. She heaved an annoyed sigh.
# # #
Once they finished lunch and she had wiped up the applesauce Sammy had flung on the wall, it was past nap time. How did that take so long? She couldn’t imagine.
She carried Sammy to the nursery where Nancy had taken a soccer theme to a whole new level—soccer mobile, soccer wallpaper, and soccer knobs on his dresser. Even the carpet was covered with a rug shaped like a soccer ball.
Would Sammy have the chance to play soccer with his dad someday?
Kate lifted Sammy into his crib. He stood there, holding the bars as if she just put him in jail. She rubbed the back of her knotted neck.
As she turned, she noticed a stack of diapers.
Oh! Maybe I should change him.
She picked Sammy back up and he smiled. When she placed him on the changing table, his feet hung over the edge. She undressed his lower half and took off a saturated diaper. Apparently she’d waited too long to change him.
Shouldn’t he cry or something when he’s wet? How am I supposed to know otherwise?
While she tried to figure out how to open the plastic diaper disposal contraption, Sammy lost his patience and started to roll off the table. Immediately she grabbed his thigh and pulled him back. She tried to catch her breath, flashing back to when she was a child and had tried to be helpful by changing Joely’s diaper. At the time, Kate had stood on a box so she could reach the table. Joely, too, threw her legs to the side, except Kate wasn’t fast enough. Joely’s tiny body had fallen to the floor like a sack of flour. Kate remembered Joely’s face, red and contorted, as she screamed with all of her might. Her mom had limped down the hallway, coming as fast as she could, but by then Kate had picked Joely up. She was too ashamed to tell her mom what had happened. Part of her always wondered if she were to blame for Joely’s poor memory.
Now Kate’s breathing remained shallower than normal, but she started to calm down. Sammy, oblivious to her anguish, smiled at her. “Ma-ma where?”
So he
could
speak. “Your mama is at the hospital with your daddy. She’ll be home soon.”
Once Sammy’s outfit was put back together, Kate placed him in the crib. Again he stood at the edge as if he didn’t want her to leave him there. He put his hand to his mouth, signing that he was hungry.
“No, you just ate.” Kate waved. “Night, night.”
He burst into tears. She hesitated, not knowing what to do. She walked over to him and patted his back. “It’s OK, Sammy. It’s time for your nap.” Seeing a teddy bear on the floor, she picked it up and gave it to him.
As she headed for the door, he started to cry, but this time Kate kept going. Even if he didn’t need a nap,
she
sure needed him to take one! She was exhausted.
She closed the door and stood just outside of it, listening to him cry. Should she go back in? She wasn’t sure what to do. He sounded so sad.
Fortunately, after a couple of minutes, the protests stopped. She went to the living room and plopped down on the sofa, too tired to even read.
The phone rang and she hesitated before crossing the room to answer it. “Hello?”
“Kate—how’s Sammy doing?” Nancy’s tight voice asked.
Thankfully she hadn’t let him roll off the changing table. “He’s fine.”
A sigh of relief billowed through the receiver.
Kate paced the floor. “How’s Lance? Do they know what happened?”
“He’s in the ICU.” Nancy’s pitch seemed unnaturally high. “They think a car crossed over the center line into his lane. Lance must have swerved because the impact was on the driver’s door instead of head-on.”
“Oh my gosh.” Kate froze. She couldn’t help but think of her dad’s crash. “Was the driver drunk?” Anger swelled inside of her.
“That’s what the police thought at first, but I guess not. They’re not sure why he crossed the line. Maybe the guy had a heart attack or something while he was driving.”
“How bad are Lance’s injuries?” Her heart pounded.
“He has a bunch of broken bones and a punctured lung. He had some internal bleeding, but they’ve managed to stop it.”
Kate shook her head, not knowing what else to say. “I’m sorry.”
“I’ll be home in a little bit to see Sammy.”
“I just put him down for his nap.”
“Oh, that’s right. I’ve lost all track of time. Well, maybe I’ll stay here another hour then. That is. . .if you don’t mind.”
“No, not at all.” Even though it stressed her to even think it, Kate said what any good friend would. . . “I can watch him as long as you need me.”
Nancy paused. “Do you think you could baby-sit again tomorrow? I want to be here with Lance, but I know Sammy would be a handful at the hospital.”
How could she say no? Nancy needed her. “I’d be glad to.” That was how she began her crash course in child-rearing.
# # #
One morning as she brushed her teeth, Kate realized she was actually looking forward to seeing Sammy. By now his separation anxiety evaporated within seconds of his mom’s departure. He and Kate were actually settling into a routine:
play, eat, change diaper, play, eat, change diaper, then nap (with crying mixed in every once in a while just to keep Kate guessing).
Kate had given up on reading long ago and had resorted to playing on the floor with him. He was so pleased to have her attention that she felt her body relax. He carried wooden puzzle pieces shaped like zoo animals and placed them in her lap one-by-one as if they were gifts. A zebra. A giraffe. An elephant. Then he brought her an orange ball. She rolled it across the room and he smiled as he ran after it. Next he handed Kate his books with the thick pages. He sat down next to her. So she read to him.
When he grew fidgety, they played his favorite game, chase. Kate would say, “I’m gonna get you!” and he would run away, half-screaming, half-laughing. She would pretend to have trouble keeping up until eventually she caught him and tickled his belly, which caused him to roll on the floor, laughing. She couldn’t help but laugh hysterically herself. It felt great. Then he would take off running and the chase started all over again.
Now Sammy lay giggling in Kate’s lap in post-chase bliss. He looked up at her and said, “Wuv you.”
Did he really just say what I think he did? Wow!
Her heart melted like a Hershey bar left out in the summer sun. She squeezed him close. “I love you, too!”
Nancy came back too soon that day.