Claws For Concern

Helen Louise said, “Yes, they did. Frank put it in the fridge while you were in the living room with the baby.”

“Thank goodness.” I hurried to the living room as my grandson’s volume began to increase. Diesel trotted right along with me to supervise.

The bawling ceased when I touched the baby. He looked up at me with such trusting eyes, and I smiled, my face now only about twelve inches from his. “It’s okay, Charlie. Grandpa’s here, and so is your nursemaid.” Diesel warbled loudly, and the baby smiled.

He had really smiled. It wasn’t just the reflexive smile all babies have in their first month or two. He smiled in response to my smile. He was also making eye contact with me. Two milestones in a baby’s life, and today of all days. Laura hadn’t mentioned to me that Charlie could do either one of these things.

“We’ll have big news for your mama and daddy when they come to pick you up.” I examined the diaper, and my nose wrinkled at the smell. “You definitely need a change, mister.”

Diesel meowed loudly, no doubt intrigued by the smell. He watched as I cleaned the baby and put him in a fresh diaper. I talked to Charlie the whole time, using every chance I had to get him accustomed to my voice. It shouldn’t be long now before he started cooing.

Helen Louise joined Diesel and me beside the crib. “He is the most perfectly beautiful child I’ve ever seen,” she said.

I heard the wistful note in her voice. We had talked once about having children, and she admitted during that conversation that she would have loved to be a mother. Trying to establish her law career and working the long hours that entailed gave her no opportunity for motherhood. Then when she decided she’d had enough of the legal career and moved to France to pursue her culinary dream, she’d been too busy learning. Back in Athena again, she was working hard to establish a new business. By the time she thought about having a child, she was over forty with no good prospect for a father in sight. Now that I was in the picture, with us both in our early fifties, we were too old to have a child. Nor did either of us any longer have the energy to adopt and rear one.

“Yes, he is.” I put my arm around her and drew her close. We stood that way for a minute or two, Diesel as entranced by the baby as we were. He smiled again as we both talked to him. Then he yawned, ready to go back to sleep. I wrapped him up again, and Helen Louise and I returned to the kitchen. The ever-vigilant feline nursemaid remained on duty.

“There’s a bit of brie left.” Helen Louise gestured toward the cheese as she resumed her seat. “I know it’s your favorite, so it’s up to you to finish it off.” She picked up a grape and popped it in her mouth.

I sighed. “Yes, it is. I’ve already eaten too much, but I can’t resist that lonely piece.” I picked it up and was enjoying it when the house phone rang. I hurriedly swallowed so that I could speak clearly into the phone. I grabbed the receiver and greeted the caller. “This is Charlie Harris.”

A woman’s voice sounded in my ear. “Good afternoon, Mr. Harris. I’m calling from the emergency room at Athena Medical Center.”

SEVENTEEN

My heart rate increased dramatically as my mind conjured up terrible images of family members in distress.

Before I could speak, she gave me her name, which I promptly forgot. She continued, “We have a Mr. William Delaney here who’s been badly injured in an apparent hit-and-run. He is asking for you. He says you’re his cousin.”

“Yes, I am.” There was no point in arguing over the technicalities of the relationship. “I’ll be on the way in a minute. How badly is he hurt?”

“It would be better to talk about it here,” the woman said. “Please come as soon as you can.” She ended the call.

I hung up the phone and turned to Helen Louise. Noting her expression of concern, I quickly relayed the gist of the call.

“You go,” she said. “I’ll stay here and keep an eye on things. Call me and let me know how he is when you know more.”

I made sure I had my cell phone in my pocket. I gave her a quick kiss, grabbed my keys, and headed into the garage. The last thing I wanted to do today was spend time in a hospital. I had spent more time than I ever cared to remember in hospitals, thanks to my parents’ health issues in their later years, though they both died relatively young, in their sixties. I clocked many an hour in Houston hospitals because of my late wife Jackie’s diagnosis of pancreatic cancer.

By the time I found out, a few months after Jackie died, that Aunt Dottie had been diagnosed with the same cancer, Aunt Dottie had only a week to live. She hadn’t wanted to worry me, she said, because she knew I was grieving the loss of my wife. Because Azalea thought I should know my aunt was dying, I managed to see her the last day of her life, in this same hospital, long enough to say good-bye to her.

No, I wasn’t fond of hospitals, but I felt I had no choice. I couldn’t ignore Bill Delaney’s request.