Second Chance Dad (2 page)

“I think we'll get along just great. I'll be back Friday, so we can start with a baseline assessment and some goal setting.”

He stared after her as she let herself out the door and closed it behind her.

She was coming back?

He'd have to make himself perfectly clear, if she did show up again. He didn't want her intruding in his life. He didn't want anyone promising the moon and stars, and the prospect of a full and rewarding future.

Because after what he'd done—and what he'd failed to do—that was the stuff of fairy tales, not reality. And he only wanted to be left alone.

 

Back in town, Sophie sloshed through the county office building to Grace's, her feet soaked and cold, her hair a sodden mess. Her first day on the job had presented more challenges than she ever could have imagined, but it was the final home visit that disturbed her the most.

Grace looked up from her computer screen and surveyed her from head to toe. “What happened to
you
?”

“My last appointment. The storm was only half the problem, believe me.”

“You look like a drowned rat—pardon the cliché.”

“I had a difficult time even getting to my car, it was raining so hard, and the roads up there turned to deep mud. I was lucky to get back.”

Grace gave her an appraising look. “So you did see Dr. McLaren.” Sophie nodded.

“And how did it go?”

Sophie braced her hands on the front edge of Grace's desk. “There should have been much more documentation in his files. That man has had severe injuries. Multiple surgeries. I cannot imagine the pain he has suffered. And all I had were the therapy orders and a brief page of progress notes—by therapists who apparently didn't get to first base. I wasn't prepared at all. And,” she added softly, feeling another surge of regret, “because of that, I'm afraid I was really hard on him.”

“Good.”

“
Good?
I'm embarrassed. I normally wouldn't talk to a client like that. But when I got there, no one answered the door. I thought he was old and might be dead in there, and then—”

A smile flitted across Grace's face. “But you got in the door.”

“Well, yes.”

“And he talked to you. Right?”

“He wasn't very happy about it.”

“Did he tell you about the accident itself—how it happened?”

“No. I asked when I was leaving, and his face practically turned to granite. He said he wasn't going to talk about it, and suddenly that was the end of our visit.” She shivered a little at the memory, because she'd seen pain in his eyes that was so bleak, so beyond reaching, that she could only imagine what he'd been through. “I think he could be a very intimidating man…but now he simply doesn't care about anything or anyone. Except maybe his dog.”

“I'll leave it up to him, if he wants to tell you about what happened, though he probably won't.” Grace pushed away from her desk and went to look out the window facing Main Street. “But you're right—he no longer cares. A number of our therapists have tried to help him, and he wouldn't see any of them a second time. He's at the end of the line for us because his insurance coverage for therapy runs out in sixty days. But if you don't give up on him, you have a chance of giving him back his life, Sophie.”

“I'm not sure he'll let me in the door next time.”

Grace turned around to face her. “Like I told you before, if you prove your mettle by succeeding with your clients, I give you my promise that you'll have a full-time job here. If Paul comes back at the end of August and wants to keep his job, I'll find a way to stretch the budget, because I know we can keep two good therapists busy. Is that a deal?”

She couldn't contain her smile. “Absolutely.”

Eli would have his school. His friends. They wouldn't have to move to some big anonymous city, where they wouldn't know their neighbors, and where Eli could be lost in the shuffle and never receive the kind of help he needed. They wouldn't have to leave the little house where Eli felt secure.

It was exactly what she'd hoped for, all along. But still, a niggle of worry crept back into her thoughts.

What if she failed?

S
tepping into Aspen Creek Books early on a Saturday morning had always filled Sophie with a warm sense of peace and happiness.

Until today.

Glancing at the imposing grandfather clock by the front register, she hurried to the back of the store, peeling off her light sweater along the way while juggling a manila folder and her purse.

The comforting scents of fresh-brewed, blueberry-flavored coffee and peach tea barely registered as she walked into the circle of easy chairs and rockers at the back and dropped into the nearest one.

Beth Carrigan, dressed in a long denim skirt and a canary blouse that accented her wild tumble of chestnut curls, looked up from the coffee she was pouring at the old oak credenza along the wall. Her gray eyes filled with instant sympathy. “Oh, no. Not again.”

The other two women were already seated, and
both leaned forward with matching expressions of dismay.

“Yes, again.” Sophie sighed. “I think I need to ask you all to start praying because my prayers aren't doing the job.”

“We've all been doing just that—even Hannah,” Olivia Carlson murmured gently. At forty-nine, she was the oldest of the five book club members, with prematurely silver hair cut in an elegant, supershort style that framed her dark brows and regal bone structure. Hannah was the youngest, but she was still away, helping with a family crisis in Texas.

“I guess there's no guarantee that my job on the county home health team will be permanent, no matter how well I do. Did you see the article in yesterday's newspaper?”

“Big cutbacks,” Olivia murmured. “In almost every department.”

“And the article says that the Home Health Agency will suffer one of the largest. How can Grace even
consider
asking the board to hiring me full-time after her other therapist comes back? They'll laugh in her face.”

Keeley North pushed her blond hair out of her eyes and frowned. “But surely if there's a
need
…”

“It won't matter if there's no money. I'm beginning to think I'll be trying to pay off college loans and raise Eli on restaurant minimum wage if I don't find something permanent soon.”

“Maybe God just has different timing in mind,” Olivia said. “Who knows what He has in store?”

Sophie managed a rueful smile. “If He could just give me a hint, I would rest a little easier.”

“Surely something will turn up, sweetie,” Keeley said with a sad shake of her head. “I just don't understand why this is taking so long. I mean, you'd think physical therapy graduates would be in high demand. Just look at all the baby boomers these days.”

“The economy has led to cutbacks at the small town hospitals and clinics all over the area.” Sophie dropped her keys into her purse and set it beside her chair, then drummed her fingernails on the folder in her lap. “I know I could find a job in the Twin Cities or Chicago. But being a single mom and not knowing anyone there would be so hard. And then there are Eli's special classes…”

Beth cut through the circle of chairs and handed her a cup of coffee. “Double creamer, two sugars. Maybe a sugar high and a little caffeine will help.”

Gratefully accepting the coffee, Sophie rolled her eyes. “Only if it can work some magic on what's in this envelope from the Two Lakes Medical Center. It's the one application I haven't heard back on yet. I brought the letter because I just couldn't bear to open it at home alone, and didn't want to open it in front of Eli, either. He's already worrying about leaving here.”

Flipping the folder open, she lifted the top envelope
from a stack of ten recent rejections and handed it to Keeley. “You read it. I just can't.”

Keeley darted a worried look at the others, then held the envelope in her hands for a moment before sliding a fingernail under the flap. She withdrew the document. Opened it slowly. After scanning it, she looked at Sophie, her eyes filling with even greater sympathy. “I…”

“It's okay.” Sophie sagged into her chair. “I wasn't expecting good news.”

“But wait—” Keeley smoothed the paper out with her hand. “They do say—right down here—that they've had a hiring freeze since January, and they'll keep your application on file. That's good, isn't it? Maybe someone
will
go on a long maternity leave.”

“Or fly to the moon.” Sophie shook off her glum thoughts. “I'm sorry, I didn't come here to moan about my problems. Maybe something will open up after my county job ends. And it's a beautiful morning, right? It's time to think positive.”

Keeley offered a bright smile. “If you need extra work, I could give you some hours at my store. Edna keeps saying she's going to retire.”

“Edna has been saying that since she turned eighty, and what I know about antiques would fit in her little finger,” Sophie said drily. “But either way, thanks for the offer.”

“And I could use some extra hours here now that Elana is in school full-time,” Beth added.

“You guys are the best. I mean that.” Sophie dissolved into helpless laughter. “But you
really
don't need me, and I refuse to be a burden to any of you.”

Olivia's forehead creased in a worried frown. “But what will you do?”

Keeley handed the letter back, and Sophie put it in the folder with all the rest of her fading dreams. “I've tried
every
possible community hospital and clinic within a fifty-mile radius. I…guess I'll just have to keep checking back with all of them. And I'll also need to start looking much farther away.”

“Don't give up, sweetie. Things will work out.”

Sophie thought of leaving the sweet little cottage she and her late husband, Rob, had bought just before his death two years ago. Then she thought of her crotchety grandpa, who refused to take care of his health or move from his little house in the woods, on the edge of town. And the teachers, who were gently helping her seven-year-old son learn to function better, despite his very mild form of Asperger's.

This was the town she loved. The one that held poignant memories of happier times.

But sentiment wouldn't pay her mortgage and school loans, or put food on the table, and Eli deserved better than having a mom who worked six
days a week for minimum wage and who left him at his grandparents' house way too much. And once her dad and stepmom moved to Florida this fall, what then? Paying full price for child care would be almost impossible on her tight budget.

Keeley flopped back in her chair and scooped her long, honey-blond hair back with both hands. “If you have to leave, things will never be the same. We'll miss you so much!”

Beth nodded. “If that happens, we'll take
road trips
. We'll come visit once a month, if you can stand us.”

“Or at least we can stay in touch via iChat or Skype, so we can see each other,” Olivia added. “You'll feel like you never even left home.”

The lilting notes of Bach's “Solfegietto” rang merrily from the depths of Sophie's purse, which meant she now owed a dollar to the coffee fund jar.

“Sorry—I thought I'd turned it off.”

“Answer it,” Keeley said, looking up from a book in her lap with a grin. “No penalty. We haven't even started yet.” At the unfamiliar phone number on the screen Sophie hesitated, then answered anyway…and at the woman's greeting she felt her heart lodge firmly in her throat.

“Sophie Alexander? This is Grace Dearborn. I need to speak to you right away.”

 

Sophie wearily leaned back in her desk chair and rubbed the back of her neck.

On Monday and Tuesday she'd traveled the county to meet nine of her homebound patients and begin taking over their physical therapy sessions. Some of the older ones had taken a good look at her, then asked when the
real
therapist—that older gentleman—would be coming back. Some appeared too frail to be capable of significant progress, while others had been testy and uncooperative.

Kindly Dr. McLaren had practically booted her out of the door.

But during last Saturday's phone call, Grace Dearborn had been crystal clear
again
about her expectations, and had expressed specific concerns about the fact that Sophie hadn't yet convinced McLaren to resume therapy.

Pointing out that the man had a perfect right to refuse any and all forms of medical care hadn't impressed Grace in the least, and she hadn't wavered a bit in her personal interest in his case, either.

Sophie glanced at her watch, then powered her laptop down and sighed. Worries about the future had fluttered through her thoughts like a legion of bats all night long.

Unable to sleep, she'd been on the internet since four o'clock in the morning searching for areas in the Twin Cities offering affordable housing, hospitals
and rehabilitation centers close by, and school districts with good support systems for kids with disabilities.

She had no plans to fail at the challenges here in Aspen Creek, but it only made sense to look ahead. Motherhood and some of the mistakes she'd made in the past had driven that point home more than once.

Her stomach twisted. How would Eli fare if he had to move away from this familiar little town and the only home he'd known? Change was so difficult for him…

“Mom?”

At the sound of his drowsy voice, she turned toward the door of her bedroom, her heart catching on a burst of love. He was nearly eight now, his dark eyes and near-black hair a gift from his biological dad's Greek heritage, though he had her light complexion. He was so very young to have experienced so many tough times.

Some days, it seemed as though they went from one meltdown to the next, sometimes leading to scenes in public that drew unwanted attention. Eli didn't have the self-awareness to see it now, but if he ever did understand how different he was from other children, what then? Where was the fairness in life?

“Bad dreams?” She welcomed him into her arms
as he flew across the room and wrapped his arms around her, nearly knocking her over.

She could feel his tear-streaked cheek against her neck and knew he'd been crying, probably over his father again, because the night of Rob's death had been a true nightmare and one neither of them could forget. He hiccuped softly, his small body clinging to hers as if just an embrace wasn't enough.

Her eyes burned. There were so many bad people in the world. People who murdered and cheated and stole; people with no apparent shred of honor or decency.

And yet, God had taken one of the good guys—a quiet, unassuming friend who had quietly stepped into her life when Eli's real father dumped her and disappeared before Eli was even born. Rob had been a gentle, loving father, and a faithful husband.

Maybe their relationship hadn't been the stuff of fairy tales and head-over-heels love, but that was only found in novels anyway. Even without the hot flame of romance, they'd still shared a good life together, and had been kind and caring to each other. Good friends. Companionship. What more did anyone need?

With hard work and big dreams they'd bought their cottage in Aspen Creek and had been looking ahead to a secure future. The family structure had been stable. Dependable. Predictable—which had been so important for Eli's day-to-day routine.

And then Rob was gone.

“Dad died and we couldn't stop it,” Eli whispered brokenly. “Even the EMTs couldn't make him better. They're 'sposed to fix people, not let them die.”

She'd healed over the past two years, but now the old fracture of her heart deepened a little more. “That's not true, sweetheart. They didn't
let
your dad die. It was out of their control. Even if he'd been in the biggest, fanciest hospital, the doctors probably couldn't have saved him.” The words tasted like sawdust, but she marshaled a comforting smile and soldiered on. “Someday, I might meet the right man, and then you'll have a daddy to do things with you again. Would you like that?”

He gave her a blank look. “I just want my
real
dad back.”

“I know. We've talked about this before, sweetheart. But that just isn't possible.”

“A new one could die, too.”

Yesterday had been the last day of school, and traditionally it was also Bring Dad to Lunch Day—probably so the dads could help lug everything home from crammed desks and work folders.

She hadn't been the only mom there, by far. But Eli had watched with a lonely expression as the other boys and their fathers teased and roughhoused, and he'd barely noticed that she was there.

“You had Todd, and he went away.” His voice wobbled.

She closed her eyes briefly, wishing she could undo the selfish choice she'd made a few months ago. She'd thought she was ready for a little casual dating, but it hadn't taken more than a few weeks of seeing Todd on Saturday evenings before she realized how wrong she was about herself, and how thoughtless she'd been.

The greatest impact had been on Eli, who still missed his father even more than she'd realized.

Todd had mostly ignored him, though that might have been for the best. He'd been impatient with Eli's lack of coordination, and when the three of them went on a picnic, the man had been irritated by Eli's constant chatter about the Harley he'd seen in the parking lot.

Change had always been difficult for Eli—the brief presence of a new man in Sophie's life had unsettled him; the abrupt departure had affected him just as much.

Agitated, he'd pelted her with questions when she told him that Todd wouldn't be coming back, and then he'd retreated to his room for hours and immersed himself in his growing stack of books on Harley-Davidson motorcycles. He'd even refused to come out for supper that night.

“Why?”

Eli's question jerked her out of her thoughts and back into the present. “Todd and I just weren't a good match.”