Authors: Theresa Rizzo
“I did.” She winced. “Do you mind very much? It shouldn’t take long and it’s on the way. I was hoping that if I got a chance to talk to the grandma, I could help her see that the clinic isn’t such a bad place.”
“What time are we supposed to meet them?”
She pulled her hand free to look at her watch. “Eleven forty-five—shoot, we’re gonna be late.”
“We’d better get a move on.”
Relief lightening her heart, Jenny ran around the Jeep and jumped into the passenger’s side. They drove down Lakeshore Drive. The huge century-old elms shading Grosse Pointe neighborhoods gave way to the stark, concrete city streets of Detroit.
Settling back in her seat, Jenny took in the tired neighborhoods, pausing on the occasional abandoned home where the peeling paint of white-framed windows highlighted dark, gaping holes. A few windows had unbroken, grimy glass, but most held jagged broken panes looking like sharp wicked teeth in a monstrous dirty brick face. Green bushes and weeds grew three feet tall around the decaying buildings, as if trying to hide the dangerous eyesores.
Jenny turned to Gabe wondering if the worn dereliction saddened him as it did her, or, since he drove this route once a week, had he become immune to the neglect. His attention seemed focused on avoiding the potholes rather than inspecting the neighborhood.
Ten minutes later, they pulled up outside the one-story red brick clinic. Tommy stood beside an elderly lady with white hair and a ramrod-straight back. She wore a dark woolen coat and no-nonsense shoes. A little girl about four years old clutched the woman’s hand while a boy about seven slumped against her as if exhausted.
“Hi, guys.” Jenny smiled broadly and held out her hand to the woman. “You must be Tommy’s grandmother. I’m Jenny and this is my husband, Gabe.”
The woman stared at her several long seconds, then looked at her hand before slowly raising her own and shaking Jenny’s. “Abigail Johnson. Tommy said you might could help Sammy here.”
“Why, sure we can.” She smiled reassuringly at the little boy. Poor little guy’s eyelids drooped over eyes dulled with pain. “Hi, Sammy, I’m Jenny.”
“Miss Jenny,” his grandma corrected and gave the boy a raised eyebrow and a telling stare for emphasis.
Sammy’s head rolled up and the edges of his lips rose in a weak smile. “Miss Jenny.”
Jenny turned and bent until she was face-to-face with the little girl. “I like your pigtails. What’s your name?”
“Clarisse,” she whispered, in a darling little lisp.
“Isn’t that a pretty name?”
Gabe rested a hand on Jenny’s back. “Why don’t we move inside? Jenny will get the paperwork from Sharon while I find us an empty exam room.”
Gabe urged the group toward the Plexiglas, bulletproof door. The thin, bespectacled guard sitting behind a scarred desk gave them a broad smile and buzzed them in.
“Hey, Doc.”
“How’s it goin’, Max?”
“Fine. Jus’ fine. You workin’ today?”
“Nope, just got a friend here I need to take care of and then we’ll be out of your hair.”
Jenny ushered them toward the receptionist, stopping when she felt a tug on her arm. Abigail Johnson looked her in the eye. “I don’t have money for this. Wish I did, but with the two little ones and…well—I just don’t.”
“Grammy J, I told you, Miss Jenny said it’s free,” Tommy broke in.
She scowled at him. “Hush now. I’m talkin’ to Miss Jenny.”
Jenny leaned close. “Please, it’s just Jenny. Don’t worry, Mrs. Johnson, he’s right; it is free. We just need you to fill out some forms, but there’s no charge.”
The woman nodded and put a bony hand on Jenny’s arm. “You can call me Grammy J.”
Jenny smiled. She’d never had a grandma she remembered, and this stern old lady warmed her heart. Jenny seated her charges and got the new patient forms from the receptionist. Grammy J sat with the little girl on her lap, clutching her like a shield. Her nostrils flared wide and her knee bounced so hard Jenny worried little Clarisse’s eyeballs rattling around in the poor mite’s head would give her permanent eye damage—that is, if she wasn’t catapulted off her grandma’s knees.
Sitting next to them, Jenny handed the clipboard of papers to Grammy J.
She stopped her nervous galloping and accepted the board. After several seconds of peering at the paper over Clarisse’s shoulder, Grammy J passed the clipboard to Tommy. “I can’t concentrate.”
Tommy obediently took the forms and slowly, with meticulous printing, began to fill them out. Occasionally he whispered a question to Grammy J, who murmured an answer. Then he handed her the pen and pointed to the spot on the consent form needing her signature.
Gabe came back to get Sammy. “Mrs. Johnson, would you like to come too?”
“No, I’ll keep an eye on this one. Tommy’ll go along.” She nudged Tommy, then grabbed Sammy’s thin arm. “You do what the doctor says, hear?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he muttered. Sammy slipped his hand into his brother’s and followed Gabe down the hall.
“I can watch Clarisse if you want to go with Sammy,” Jenny offered.
“Tommy’ll do.”
“You’ve done a wonderful job with the children. They’re very polite and sweet.”
Staring at the hall her grandsons disappeared down, Grammy J sighed. “I try. It about tore me up to have to send Tommy away, but he better off outta that neighborhood.” She looked at Jenny. “You know, you try to do the right thing. You take ’em to church and try to raise ’em right, but with the gangs and the drugs, they just won’t let ’em be. Them kids were after Tommy for weeks to join up, but I sent him away. He better off.”
“I’m sorry. It sounds like you’re doing the right thing. I know Tommy misses his brother and sister, but the Jeromes are nice people and make sure he visits, right?”
“Not enough. I shouldn’t have to get permission from nobody when I needs to take my own flesh and blood outta school to he’p his brother,” Grandma J whispered. She looked sideways at Jenny. “You got kids?”
“Me? Uh—” Jenny resisted the urge to put a hand to her stomach; instead she shook her head. “Stepchildren. But they’re in college.”
“None of your own?”
Not really. Not yet
. “No. Children are a lot of responsibility.”
Grammy J’s head bobbed. “Amen to that.”
“Well, I think you’re doing an awesome job.” She smiled and ducked her head to look at the four-year old. “Isn’t she?”
Clarisse nodded shyly.
“Would you like a juice box Miss Clarisse?” At the enthusiastic nod, Jenny looked at Grammy J. “Can I get you both a juice, or perhaps you’d like coffee?”
“No. Thank you.”
Jenny went off to the kitchen to get drinks. On her way back, she ran into Gabe and the boys.
“Will he live?” Jenny teased.
“Should.” Gabe looked at Grammy J. “He’s got a pretty good ear infection going, but after a few days of antibiotics, he’ll be fine. I’ll get the medicine, then we can be on our way.”
Jenny handed out the juices. Grammy J sat stiffly in the plastic chair. Her knee began fanatically springing again as she constantly scanned the near-empty waiting room as if expecting an attack. Poor thing couldn’t have looked more uncomfortable.
Jenny turned Tommy aside so they faced the wall. “You know there are free programs to help her learn to read.”
“What?”
“She can learn to read; she’s not too old.” Jenny looked into his eyes. “You can’t always be there to help her.”
Tommy stood up tall and lifted his chin. “Who says she can’t read?”
“I says.”
“She’s too proud,” he whispered.
“Maybe I can talk to her after I get back from vacation.”
“Maybe.” He gave her a considering look before breaking into a broad smile. “She likes you.”
“I like her too.”
Gabe returned, gave Grammy J the medicine and explained the dosage. He looked at Jenny. “How about we give these nice people a ride home?”
Grammy J frowned. “We don’t want to trouble you.”
He held the door open for them. “No trouble. I insist.”
“Thank you.” She looked up with solemn eyes and nodded. “For everything.”
“You’re welcome.”
Jenny’s heart swelled with pride. She caught Gabe’s eye, and mouthed, “I love you.”
He winked and opened the car door for her.
They piled into Jenny’s Jeep, dropped the Johnsons home and Tommy at school. After Tommy disappeared behind the dark wooden doors, Jenny turned in her seat. “You’re a good man, Gabriel Harrison.”
Gabe stretched out in the passenger’s seat. “I try.”
She smiled at his glib answer. “I know how precious your free time is. Thanks for doing that for me.”
He gave her a warm look. “My pleasure.”
Some husbands would be seriously derailed at starting their vacation several hours late because their wives committed them to a good deed, but not Gabe. Her husband was a sweetie, a real angel. She just hoped what she had to tell him wouldn’t wreck things.
“What would I do without you?”
He threaded his fingers through hers. “Don’t worry, you’re never gonna get the chance to find out.”
* * *
Driving down I-94 in her new sapphire blue Jeep, they sped past Detroit Metro airport before Jenny remembered the present. “Oh. With all the commotion, I forgot about your anniversary present. Look in the glove compartment.”
Gabe pulled out the flat, square gift. Though the distinctive shape pretty much precluded the reason for wrapping the CD, Jenny had chosen brightly colored paper and tied a stylish gold wire-rimmed bow around it. “Guess who.”
“Isn’t the appropriate gift for a second anniversary paper or tin foil or pottery?”
“Close. Guess who.”
“Kelly Clarkson?”
“Would I get you
my
favorite singer as a present?”
“You got me headphones for Christmas so
you
could sleep while I watched TV in bed.”
“That’s different,” she dismissed airily. “That was a gift to both of us. You get to watch the whole TV show in bed, and I don’t have to harass you to turn it off when I want to go to sleep.”
“And that’s different…How?”
“It’s cheaper than marriage counseling,” she said in mock warning.
Gabe laughed and tore open the wrapping, revealing a classic Chuck Mangione recording. “Jazz. Great. Thanks, honey.” He reached out a hand to massage her shoulder. Jenny leaned into his touch, enjoying the way his fingers lingered at the nape of her neck and toyed with her hair.
“You’re welcome. Why don’t you pop it in?”
They drove west across Michigan to the relaxing sounds of the horn while the tension lines eased from around Gabe’s eyes. The hectic pace of his general surgery practice combined with his volunteering at the inner city clinic took its toll.
The breeze from the open window whipped Gabe’s short hair. He propped one sneaker-clad foot on the dash and slumped deeper in his seat. “Are you in mourning yet? Now that Steve and Annie are engaged.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Funny. She’s not who
I
would’ve picked for him, but I’ll be nice to her.”
Gabe chuckled. “You hate her.”
She shot him a quick, accusing look before returning her attention to the road. “You don’t like her either.”
“He could do better.”
“So why Annie? And proposing at a football game?” She rolled her eyes. “How private and romantic.”
“It had national coverage. She loved it.”
“She would,” Jenny muttered. “Think she’s pregnant?”
One eyebrow arched over mirrored aviator glasses. “
Not
nice.”
Yeah…this “nice” thing would take some practice.
Gabe rummaged through the cooler for a Coke Zero and opened it with a loud pfft. Holding it out to Jenny for a sip, his hand jerked, sending soda splashing across the center console.
“Shoot.” He grabbed a Kleenex to swipe at the drops sliding down the side of his seat.
Jenny swallowed a quick gulp and handed the can back. “Thanks.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Gabe’s hand tremble violently as he raised the can to his lips. This wasn’t the first time she’d noticed his hand shaking, but it seemed to come and go.
He glanced sideways and flashed her a rueful grin. “Better lay off the caffeine.”
She gasped. “Leadless?” They’d always disdained decaf coffee.
He stared at the black can in his hand and sighed. “Soda, too.”
Jenny laughed at his sorrowful look. Gabe loved his morning coffee and was a bear until he’d downed at least half a cup. The hand jitters made him more nervous than she would have thought. Did he know something he wasn’t telling her? She peeked at him out of the corner of her eye again. It was probably nothing a little less caffeine wouldn’t cure. They’d give it up together. Caffeine wasn’t good for the baby anyway.
Before Benton Harbor, they turned north onto a less-populated road. They drove up the coast past near-empty beaches now lying dormant in the off-season. The musty smell of lake water gave way to the distant scent of burning leaves. Harbors sat quiet, where a few remaining boats waited patiently to be dry-docked and stored for the winter.
“Hey, Gabe?”
“Hmm.”
Jenny kept her eyes on the road. Her fingers flexed around the steering wheel. “What would you think of our having a baby?”
Gabe’s sunglasses hid far too much of his expression, Jenny only had the momentary tightening of his lips to gauge his reaction. He paused long nerve-wracking seconds before answering. “I thought you didn’t want children.”
“I know I said that, but…what if I do?”
“We already made this decision—it’s what we both wanted.”
“Maybe I changed my mind.”
“You were pretty emphatic about not wanting children, Jen.”
“I know,” she said in a conciliatory tone. “But I was a little overwhelmed with my job, the wedding, and the house renovation. I really thought I didn’t want kids. I figured I’d be busy with my career and being a wife and stepmother, but maybe I was wrong,” she finished softly.
“I got you Ritz.”
“A dog’s not quite the same as a child.”
Gabe sat quietly for what seemed like minutes. “You want a baby?”