Emergency: single dad, mother needed Page 4

  Gabe sat beside JT but the boy didn’t vomit. The bed was damp, though, so he helped JT change his pajamas and then stripped the sheets off the bed, replacing them with a spare set from the hallway closet.

  “Hey, buddy, maybe you should try to eat. Your tummy might hurt because you’re hungry.” Gabe tried not to wince at the mountain of laundry growing larger by the minute. It seemed as if he had constantly been doing laundry since JT had moved in. Not that he was complaining, but in the battle between him and the washing-machine, he rarely emerged the winner. “I can make you some chicken noodle soup, your favorite.”

  “No, I don’t think so.” JT scrunched down into the covers, blinking owlishly against the light. “Is the pretty lady still here?”

  “Dr. Holly?” Unable to squelch a flash of guilt, he settled on the edge of JT’s bed. Since taking custody of his nephew, Gabe had never invited a woman over. Until now. Logically, he knew JT was too young to understand the potential implications, but he intended to set a good example for the boy, anyway. “Yes, she’s still here. Why, did you want to ask her something? Does your throat hurt now?”

  “No.” JT shook his head. “But I like her. She seems nice.”

  “She is nice.” Oh, boy. They were treading on dangerous ground here. Gabe tried to think of a way to prevent JT from getting the wrong idea. “She’s a good doctor. She often takes care of sick kids, just like you.”

  “Oh.” He could see the wheels turning in JT’s mind. In a disappointed tone the boy asked, “She’s a real doctor?”

  “Yep. She’s a real doctor, just like me. We work together at the hospital.”

  JT bit his lower lip, his gaze wistful. “Do you think she’d come back and visit once I’m better?”

  She would, he knew, if only for JT’s sake, but the knowledge made Gabe hesitate. He’d give anything to help JT deal with his nightmares. At the same time he wasn’t willing to start something he couldn’t finish. “I don’t know, she’s pretty busy. Why don’t you get some sleep, hmm?”

  JT nodded, pulling his green and yellow stuffed dinosaur close, the one Claire had given him. The toy had been his constant companion over the past few weeks. Gabe brushed a kiss over JT’s forehead before getting up to leave.

  “G’night, Uncle Gabe,” he whispered.

  “Goodnight, JT.”

  Outside JT’s room, he leaned back against the door and stared at the ceiling. JT was seeking a mother substitute because he missed his mother. As JT’s grandmother lived in Florida he didn’t get to see her that often. Obviously, JT approved of Holly.

  He couldn’t blame the kid. He did, too.

  Blowing out a heavy breath, Gabe dropped his head and rubbed the back of his neck. There was no way to explain to JT that bringing a woman into the mix was the wrong idea. He knew from experience that not all women were willing to raise someone else’s son.

  Heck, he was struggling a little with the reality of being a parent and he already loved his nephew.

  It would be better for both of them if he and JT stuck it out alone. Maybe he should move to Florida? JT’s grandmother could fill the motherly role.

  Using Holly wasn’t an option.

  Strengthening his resolve, he hustled back to the kitchen, where he’d left Holly. When he walked in, the first thing he noticed was that she’d cleaned up his entire kitchen. Very nice, considering he wasn’t exactly a neat cook.

  “You didn’t have to clean up,” he protested.

  She lifted a shoulder, avoiding his gaze. “It’s all right.”

  He hesitated, realizing Holly was upset. Was she upset that he’d put JT first, rushing off to take care of his needs? No, he couldn’t believe Holly was that much like Jennifer. She looked more upset than angry.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, as she carefully folded his dish towel and hung it on the drying rack.

  Holly turned to face him, her eyes full of reproach. “Why didn’t you tell me JT was your nephew?”

  Damn, he’d forgotten. He hadn’t wanted to push JT to call him Dad, not when he’d known him all along as Uncle Gabe. “JT is Claire’s son.”

  His sister’s name caused her expression to soften. “Oh no, Claire? Claire is the one who’d died in a car crash?”

  Holly had only met Claire once, so it wasn’t too surprising that she hadn’t jumped to the right conclusion right away. If he was honest, he’d admit he hadn’t tried very hard to clarify the truth either. “Yes. I took custody of JT the same day.”

  “I’m sorry.” Remorse filled her face. But then she frowned, her expression more hurt than puzzled. “But, Gabe, why didn’t you tell me? You must have known that I’d assume JT was biologically your son.”

  The hurt in her eyes made him want to cross over to her, but after the conversation he’d had with JT he forced himself to stay where he was. One brief visit and JT was already wondering if the “pretty lady” would come back again. He never should have called her over here. Getting close to Holly wasn’t an option. “Maybe I should have told you. I’ve petitioned the court to formally adopt him.”

  “What about JT’s biological father? Doesn’t he want custody?” she asked.

  “No.” His answer was evasive and he knew it. JT’s biological father was the last subject Gabe wanted to talk about—it was one complication he refused to discuss, especially with Holly. Not until he had the DNA results back. He didn’t want to hurt her unnecessarily. “Right now, I’m the only family JT has, besides his grandmother. I can’t just let him go to some stranger.”

  “I understand.” Holly’s gaze warmed, her earlier pique forgotten. “I admire you, Gabe. It takes a special man to step up in a crisis. I think you’ll be a great father.”

  “I hope so.” He wished he could be so sure, especially considering he hadn’t had a good role model. Balancing the effort of raising JT and work wasn’t easy. In fact, days like today he wondered if he was cut out for the job.

  Holly’s willingness to come over helped, though. And her kind words touched a place in his heart he thought he’d closed off a long time ago. He missed the closeness they’d once shared. The night they’d danced together, during the wedding they’d crashed to see a band, was permanently etched on his memory.

  “Hey,” she said, bringing him back to the matter at hand as she smiled gently. “You’ll be fine.”

  He nodded, glad she hadn’t reacted negatively, the way Jennifer had. Except for that brief moment when she must have assumed he’d lied to her on purpose. But Holly’s appreciation was almost harder to take. Desperate for distance, he edged toward the front door. “Thanks again for coming out, and for cleaning up my messy kitchen.”

  “You cooked. Besides, I needed something to do.” Holly caught his hint, picking up her purse and following him through the living room. At the front door, though, she paused and glanced up at him, her citrus scent wreaking havoc with his brain. “Gabe?”

  He braced his arm against the doorjamb, trying not to let her sensual scent overwhelm his common sense. “Yeah?”

  “I’m sorry. I was upset, partially because I thought you lied to me about JT on purpose.”

  His fingers curled into a fist to keep from tucking her hair behind her ear, tipping her face up to his. “I didn’t mean to.”

  “I know. It’s just that I’ve been lied to a lot in the past.” Her earnest gaze held his. “Thinking you had lied to me too…” She let her voice trail off.

  For a long moment he stared down at her. Tom’s infidelity had done more damage than he’d realized, to her self-confidence and her self-esteem. “Holly, you deserve better. Don’t sell yourself short. Ever.”

  Her sad smile ripped at his heart. “I’ll try.”

  She moved as if to open the door. He didn’t make a conscious decision to stop her, but he must have because suddenly she was in his arms, her soft curves pressed against his hardness, her mouth sweet yet passionate beneath his.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  LOST in wonderful, myriad se
nsations, Holly reveled in the kiss. Until a tiny corner of logic deep in the recesses of her mind forced her to realize what she was doing.

  As much as she wanted to kiss him, heavens, she loved kissing him, Gabe was wrong for her. Starting something on a personal level with him would only end badly. For her. Bringing her hand up to the center of his chest, she gave a weak push. He reacted instantly, breaking off the kiss and taking a quick step back, stumbling, nearly falling in his haste to get away.

  She felt lost without his arms supporting her. Missed his warmth, his heady desire. Trying to gather her reeling senses, she whispered, “We can’t do this.”

  “No.” Gabe surprised her by agreeing, as he blew out a heavy breath and scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “We can’t. I’m sorry.”

  Sorry he’d kissed her? Or sorry it had been the wrong time and place for both of them? She should be glad she was the one who had been strong enough to end the insanity but instead she only felt cold. Bereft.

  Every neuron in her body tingled from the effects of his kiss. That a simple kiss could affect her so deeply, knocking her off balance in a way Tom’s kisses never had, frightened her.

  “I have to go.” Blindly, she turned and headed for the door.

  “Holly.” Gabe’s voice stopped her. Steeling herself against a strong desire to throw herself back into his arms, she glanced over her shoulder at him. “If things were different, I’d ask you to stay.”

  Her knees wobbled as a fresh wave of desire curled in her belly. She wanted to deny how much she wanted him, but she couldn’t lie. Not about this. “If things were different, I might.”

  For the longest moment they stared at each other. But Holly knew standing there and wishing for things to be other than what they were was absolutely useless. So she turned and continued outside, heading to her car.

  She could feel Gabe’s gaze on her back, but she didn’t turn to look. Heaven knew, she didn’t want to see the same longing she was feeling reflected in his eyes.

  Coming out to help him with JT had been a mistake.

  Somehow, some way she needed to forget those brief moments of pure heaven she’d spent in Gabe’s arms.

  Holly was relieved she didn’t get called down to the ED again the next day. Avoiding Gabe would help re-establish her equilibrium. Maybe if she was lucky, she wouldn’t have to see Gabe the rest of the week.

  On Thursday afternoon she went up to check on Mark. His mother was alone, seated at his bedside in the PICU.

  “Good afternoon, Mrs. Kennedy.” She flashed a warm smile. “How are you holding up?”

  Her response was a wan smile. “I’m fine. It’s Mark I’m worried about.”

  Placing a hand on the boy’s arm, Holly gazed down at him, feeling helpless. The antibiotics should be fighting the infection by now. His neuro status should be starting to improve.

  But it wasn’t.

  “Mark?” She tucked her hand around his. “Can you hear me? Squeeze my hand.”

  Nothing. She bit her lip and tried again. “Mark, wiggle your toes. Come on, show me how you can wiggle your toes.”

  Still no response. She pressed her thumb into the back of his hand and he pulled away from the slightly painful stimulus. At least that much of a response, withdrawal from pain, was a little encouraging.

  “He’s not getting any better,” Mrs. Kennedy said in a low voice. “And it’s all my fault.”

  What? Holly left Mark’s side and crossed over to his mother, crouching in front of her to take the woman’s hand. “Mrs. Kennedy, don’t blame yourself. It’s not your fault Mark contracted a bacterial infection.”

  But the woman was shaking her head. “I’m the one who agreed to send him to boarding school. It was my husband’s idea. He thought the structure of a military boarding school would be good for Mark, but in reality I think maybe he just wanted my son out of his hair.” Her voice broke and she tugged her hand from Holly’s grasp and buried her face in her hands, sobbing quietly.

  Knowing very well how easy it was to wallow in guilt, Holly put her arm around the woman’s shoulders and hugged her. “It’s not your fault. There are plenty of kids who go to boarding schools every year, and they all don’t get meningitis.” She didn’t add the fact that bacterial meningitis was more common in dormitories and there was a vaccination against it. The poor woman felt bad enough. “And do you know how tough it is to raise teenagers these days? I have to say, your husband might have had the right idea, putting him in a structured school right from the beginning. A good friend of mine had so much trouble with her teenage son she often wished she’d done something like that right from freshman year.”

  Mrs. Kennedy sniffled and raised her tear-streaked eyes. “Really?”

  “Yes, really.” Plucking a box of tissues off the counter, Holly handed them to her. “Please, don’t feel guilty. Mark needs you to be strong. There’s still a chance he can pull through this. Hang in there with him, okay?”

  She blew her nose and nodded. “I will.”

  “Does your husband come to visit Mark?” Holly asked, trying to get a feel for the family dynamics. She hadn’t been lying about her friend’s troubles with her son, but there may have been a grain of truth to what Mrs. Kennedy had described. It could be that her husband had wanted her son from her first marriage out of the way.

  “He wanted to, but I wouldn’t let him.” Mrs. Kennedy sniffled again. “Maybe structure is good for teenage boys but I still think he just wanted to get rid of Mark.”

  Mark’s illness could easily drive a wedge in the family. “Mrs. Kennedy, your marriage isn’t any of my business and I’m not trying to pry, but it’s at times like this when you need to come together as a family. Do you love your husband?”

  Wordlessly, she nodded.

  “Well, then, don’t hold this against him. Blaming him or yourself isn’t going to help Mark at this point.” Holly didn’t want to see this family fall apart. If Mark did pull through, he’d need both his parents’ help and support. She was a firm believer that kids deserved an intact family, she’d often wished she’d had one. “My advice is that you let your husband visit Mark. He should be here with you, or at least relieve you so you can spend time with your other children. You need to lean on each other, get all the support you can.”

  Mrs. Kennedy’s eyes filled with cautious hope. “Do you really think so?”

  “Yes. I do.” She reached over and gave the woman another hug before rising to her feet. “I’m going to talk to Mark’s critical care physician, see if there’s anything else we can do. Take care of yourself, all right?”

  She nodded. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” Holly left the room, wiping at her eyes, which were starting to brim with tears. She felt so bad for Mrs. Kennedy and for Mark. What a difficult situation.

  After conversing with the critical care physician in charge of Mark’s care, they agreed to reduce his sedation to see if they could get him to be more responsive. Holly had also insisted on another CT scan of his head. She wondered if he was suffering from an increase in brain tissue swelling.

  Trying not to dwell on the seriousness of Mark’s situation, Holly continued the rest of her rounds. She was just finishing a consult note on a young girl with a fever of unknown origin when her pager went off.

  She read the text, her heart sinking. The call was from the ED. Full of trepidation, she finished her note requesting an MRI brain scan and then called the ED. No reason to worry, there was a good chance Gabe wasn’t working today. “This is Dr. Davidson from Infectious Diseases. Did someone page?”

  “Holly?” Gabe’s familiar voice echoed in her ear. “I need your help. We have a serious situation down here.”

  “What is it?” She straightened in her seat, alarmed by his grave tone.

  “I have three Hmong children all showing signs of active tuberculosis.”

  “Active TB? Are you sure?” Her heart sank in her chest. Active tuberculosis was rare, except in certain patient po
pulations. This was serious, especially if the Hmong children had been exposed by an infected adult.

  “I’m sure.” Gabe’s tone was grim. “They all have fevers and a cough, two of the older ones tested positive on their PPD skin test, but the youngest is only four and came up negative. We’ve had chest X rays done and are treating them aggressively, even the youngest one. But there are about twenty family members packed in the waiting room and it’s likely one of the adults is the primary source of the infection.”

  Dear God. Hmong families tended to stick together, everyone showing up at the hospital when one loved one was ill. And they often lived together too, many people crammed into small residences. Fertile ground for fostering infection. The possibility of a sick adult spreading tuberculosis to more children here at the hospital was horrifying. Having three infected children was bad enough. “Do whatever you can to isolate the family. I’ll be right there.”

  Gabe had never been in such a volatile situation before. The implications of extensive TB exposure was overwhelming. Even now he could see there were at least fifteen to twenty other people in the ED waiting room, and if any of them had been close to the source of infection, they would need treatment.

  After donning a face mask, he ushered the family into a large conference room where he could at least shut the door. It didn’t have negative pressure, as dictated by hospital code, but it was better than nothing.

  “My name is Dr. Martin and I’m afraid the three girls you brought in, MeeKa, BaoKa, and YiKa, all have tuberculosis. Tuberculosis is a very serious and very contagious lung infection.” He scanned the room. In the center of the group, his gaze rested on the oldest member of the family, the grandfather, whose pale skin, sunken eyes, and deep rattling cough triggered his internal alarms. “Sir?” He approached the elder. “How long have you had that cough?”

  A woman stepped up. “Excuse me, Tou Yang doesn’t speak any English. I can tell you my father has been feeling bad for a long time, many weeks. Tou Yang has refused to go to the hospital to see a doctor, though.”