Ring Out the Old (Twelves Months of Romance - January) Page 2

  “Mr. Easton, Mr. Easton!” Nicole yelled, her bare hands freezing against the icy-cold door.

  “Natalie? Are you hurt?” he asked the obviously distraught girl at his back door.

  “It's Nicole, and it's my mom. Please, will you come?”

  Billy grabbed his jacket from the peg by the back door and shoved his bare feet into his work boots. He didn't waste any time asking questions, but ran with Nicole back to the bungalow.

  Natalie had managed to get her mother into her coat and snow boots. It had been a struggle, but Natalie was grateful that her mother had been too weak to protest.

  “Jen, are you sick?” he asked gently, smoothing back her soft, sable hair as he knelt in front of her.

  “Mom has Crohn's disease. So does Nat,” Nicole told him. “She's been throwing up, which means her intestines are inflamed and nothing can get through.”

  “What do you usually do?” Billy asked her.

  “She has to go to the hospital, but she won't leave us. Can you take her? Nat and I can take care of Davey, and maybe you can take us to school in the morning?”

  Billy looked at these two brave little girls, struggling not to cry. They shouldn't have had to cope with this by themselves. He'd bet anything that's why their father had walked out on them. Too spineless to take care of his own in sickness and in health.

  “I know it's too much to ask, Mr. Easton,” Jen said, a tremor in her voice. “But if you could just stay with them, I can get a cab to the hospital. My parents are due back from their cruise this morning and they can take over.”

  “Now, here I thought we were becoming friends,” he grinned at her as he picked her up in his arms. “It's Billy, remember?”

  “No, please, I can walk,” Jen protested, weakly.

  “And why should you, when you can ride the Easton Express?” he teased. “Girls, you lock up tight behind me and go to bed. As soon as I get your mother settled in, I'll be back. Don't worry about staying up. I have a key, okay?”

  The girls nodded at their landlord, relieved that he'd taken charge. Nicole locked the door and slipped on the chain bolt. She followed Natalie into their mother's room where Davey slept on the second twin bed. It was a miracle that he hadn't woken up through all the commotion.

  They made sure he was tucked in, then climbed into their mother's bed, where they held each other and tried to sleep.

  “Mr. Easton's nice,” Natalie observed.

  “Yeah,” Nicole agreed. “Cute, too.”

  “Do you suppose …?” Natalie began.

  “Nah, Mom wouldn't. Not so soon after Dad left.”

  “Nic … I think Dad really left in his head a long time ago.”

  “Yeah, I think so, too.”

  * * *

  Billy couldn't believe the mess in the emergency room. He'd nearly gotten arrested and thrown out when they'd insisted Jen had to wait her turn and he'd demanded she be seen by a doctor right away.

  “This woman has Crohn's disease and she might have a blockage. She's been vomiting and she's very weak. Now I don't know much about this disease, but it seems to me that might be pretty serious.”

  “Don't, Mr. Easton. She's new and doesn't know my history,” Jen whispered, trying to calm him down.

  “Billy,” he snapped, pulling out his cell phone. “Who's your doctor?”

  “Dr. Haskett, but please don't disturb him.”

  Billy ignored her and got the number from information. A few words to the answering service and he flipped the phone shut. Less than a minute later, the phone rang.

  “Easton,” he answered.

  …

  Yeah, Doc. I've got Mrs. Prescott here in the emergency and they're telling her she has to wait.”

  He smiled at the reply and handed the phone to the receptionist. He smiled even more as the girl said, “Yes, sir. Yes, sir.” When she ran for the triage nurse, forgetting to give Billy back his phone, he winked at Jen.

  “Jen, I didn't know you were out here!” the nurse exclaimed.

  “Linda. Thank goodness,” Jen breathed. “You know I don't mind waiting, but I had to leave the kids at home alone, and Mr. Easton won't go back to them until I've been taken care of.”

  “Where's David?” Linda asked, helping Jen up from her seat.

  “California,” Jen replied, too tired and weak to offer any further explanation. She allowed Linda to lead her to the triage station, refusing a wheel chair, though she was doubled over in pain.

  “Oh?” Linda raised her eyebrows at Billy over Jen's shoulder.

  Billy nodded back grimly, following them to the cubicle.

  “I'll take care of Mrs. Prescott now, Mr. Easton,” Linda told him. “She'll feel better if her children aren't alone.”

  “Okay, but you call and let me know how you are.” Billy wrote out his cell number for her, only then remembering that the receptionist still had it.

  He waved off Jen's thanks, and headed out to the front desk.

  “My phone, please,” and took it from the girl, putting it carefully in his pocket. Then he leaned over the desk and got right in the frightened girl's face. “And the next time I come in here with Mrs. Prescott, you'll take care of her right away, won't you?” he drawled.

  The receptionist didn't miss the menace in his voice and nodded, her eyes wide.

  * * *

  By the time Billy got home from dropping the kids off, it was nine o'clock. It had felt so good to send them to school smiling and happy, knowing their mother was being taken care of. He knew he should go back to bed, but there were too many thoughts pushing to the front of his brain.

  They were nothing new. He'd managed to turn all the bad memories into good ones, but now all the bad stuff was coming back to haunt him. That's what the dream had been about last night.

  Billy pulled out a chair and sat at the kitchen table, his head in his hands.

  Little Willie. His beautiful son. Made in love with his beautiful wife, Kay. AML, Acute Myeloid Leukemia. God, what they'd all been through.

  It had all come on very fast, but the doctors had assured him and Kay that there was every chance for a complete remission. Even so, there'd been the pain and the bleeding, bouts with bronchitis, not to mention the treatments. Trips to the emergency room had gotten to be a way of life.

  But Willie had been such a brave little boy. Oh, he'd cried when he was in pain and he'd held on to his parents when he knew he was going in for treatment, but he let the doctors do what they had to do because he'd believed his mother and father when they assured him that he would be all better.

  The irony of it was that Willie had gotten better. The doctors were pleased with his response to the treatments. Billy and Kay knew that he'd have to have chemo every few years for a while longer to prevent recurrence of the disease, but there was a light at the end of the tunnel, and the light was dazzling.

  Billy sighed, looking around his beautiful, empty kitchen. Realizing he was hot, he remembered to take off his jacket. Maybe if he kept himself busy, he wouldn't have to remember anything else. But the memories had a hold on him now, and making coffee wasn't going to stop them.

  He remembered so clearly the day disaster had struck. Not the cancer. They could have coped with that. They had been there for their son and for each other throughout the whole ordeal, and their love for each other had been stronger than ever. They'd even talked about having another baby.

  It was the puppy. They thought Willie should have a reward for all he'd been through, and what better than a puppy? Kay and Willie had been at the puppy park, playing with Sparky. The boy and his dog were rolling around in the red and gold leaves scattered all over the ground. It had been a perfect Autumn day, and Kay was laughing at Sparky wiggling and licking Willie's face.

  When Kay told him about that day, he thought it would be a good memory for her to hold on to, but it was that very memory that haunted her. She couldn’t think about it without remembering the car that plowed through the fence killing both Willi
e and Sparky while she looked on.

  Four years old and gone, just like that.

  Four years old.

  Just like Davey Prescott.

  Except Willie would have been sixteen by now, and they would have been arguing over the car keys. Kay, always the soft-hearted one in their marriage, would have been negotiating between them, and the daughter they'd talked about having would have been waiting her chance to wheedle old Dad out of something or other. The daughter that might have been the same age as Natalie and Nicole.

  Billy found himself standing at the sink, staring out the window at the bungalow he'd so lovingly restored. What the hell was he doing getting involved in a family that brought back so many painful memories?

  Willie was gone. Kay had left months later, no longer able to cope with the tragedy. She'd run back home to her family in Nebraska, begging him to let her go. And he had. He'd promised her he would wait six months before trying to contact her, but he would take her back any time she felt strong enough to make a new start.

  Kay had refused to talk to him, but still he waited for her to grieve. On the anniversary of little Willie's death, the phone rang. He'd been feeling pretty blue, and his mood lifted when he saw his in-law's phone number on the caller ID. She had to be feeling pretty low too, and she had to know that Billy would give her the comfort she needed.

  He'd picked up the phone with a smile in his heart, but it wasn't Kay. It was her father with the horrible news that Kay had taken her own life. They'd found her with a picture of Willie clutched to her breast. They'd called 911 and held her hand until the ambulance came, calling to her to hold on, but she breathed her last before the paramedics arrived. The only consolation they could offer was that her last word was Billy's name.

  Okay, it had been twelve years since Willie died and eleven since Kay followed him. He'd spent years kicking himself over his failure to help Kay. If he hadn't let her go, he could have been there for her. He could have kept her from that awful mistake, but he hadn't. Eventually, he came to understand that Kay had made her choices too, and they had to share equally in the blame for her suicide.

  Now, here was this family, almost a reproduction of the one he had lost, and he had to guard against becoming involved with them precisely for that reason.

  * * *

  Jen leaned back, her face nearly as white as the pillowcase she rested against. The IV dripped healing antibiotics into her vein, and the pain diminished as the swelling in her intestines went down.

  “You don't have to stay, Dad. You know I'm used to this,” she told her father.

  “Maybe you are, Jennifer, but I'm not,” he told her with a strained smile.

  Jen had to smile back. Only her parents ever called her Jennifer. The kids at school had quickly shortened her name to Jen, and some of the family still called her Jen-Jen on occasion.

  “Besides, I have nothing better to do with the kids off at school and your mother filling in for you at Dr. Haskett's.”

  “Are you sure they made it to school all right?” Jen asked anxiously.

  “Positive. I checked both schools,” he assured her, patting her hand. “You got lucky with that landlord of yours.”

  “Yes. He's a nice man.”

  Jen turned her head away from her father so he wouldn't see the tears that sprang to her eyes. If she hadn't been so weak from this flare-up, she would have been grateful for Billy's kindness, but it wouldn't have reduced her to this weepy state.

  “We'll take the kids with us for the weekend, Jennifer, so don't you worry about a thing. Your mother will lay in a supply of Jello for you, and you can just rest and get your strength back.”

  “Jello,” she choked out. “Funny how good that stuff can taste after you haven't eaten anything for 36 hours.”

  “I know I'd be raring to bite into a steak and I wouldn't care if it was raw!” he chuckled.

  “Don't worry, Dad. I'll let you cook one for me as soon as I can eat it.” Jen was beginning to feel better. It was always comforting to have her father close-by, but what she really wanted was for him to pick up the kids. She wouldn't feel right until she heard their voices.

  * * *

  Billy didn't know what the hell he was doing at the hospital. He especially didn't know what he was doing buying a plant in the gift shop. It had only been a few hours since he'd decided to keep the Prescott family at a distance.

  It was just that Jennifer Prescott had the kind of courage that Kay had shown throughout little Willie's illness. That courage had failed her in the end, but he knew in his heart that Jen would never give in. She might stumble, but she'd never fall. That kind of courage should be rewarded.

  The door to her room was open, but Billy didn't see her at first. He figured she was in the second bed behind the curtain, but he heard voices and was suddenly shy about intruding.

  He stood uncertainly at the edge of the curtain, but the woman in the first bed gave him away.

  “Jennifer, you've got a visitor,” she sang out.

  A slim man of medium height with gray hair and Jen's blue eyes pulled the curtain back slightly to see who it was. He was a little startled by the big man in a plaid jacket clutching a plant in his large hands.

  “Are you here to see Jennifer?” he asked politely.

  “Jennifer? Oh, you mean Jen,” Billy replied. “Yes. I'm her landlord.”

  “I'm Jennifer's father.” He held out his hand. “We're very grateful for what you did for her.” Neil was startled when the man handed him the plant instead of shaking his hand.

  “Happy to help,” Billy mumbled, his face red from embarrassment. Jen's father had meant to shake his hand and, like a big oaf, he'd given him the plant instead.

  “Look who's here, Jennifer. It's Mr. Easton. And he's brought you a plant.” Neil took the opportunity to turn away from the red-faced man to give him a chance to collect himself.

  “Billy, please,” he insisted, beginning to recover from his blunder.

  “You didn't have to do that, Billy,” Jen murmured, “but thank you.”

  “It was nothing,” he mumbled, feeling as awkward as a schoolboy.

  “You met my father?” Jen asked. She was floundering her way through this unreal conversation. She had no idea why she should feel the need to utter nothing more than inanities. Billy was a friendly man, and they should all be chatting like old friends.

  “Neil Stanley,” her father said. He would have offered his hand again, but the plant was in it, and he was afraid that Billy would grab it back from him.

  He could understand Jen's tension. She was exhausted and probably hungry as a bear by now. But why was this Billy so edgy? It looked like he was going to have to take the lead in this conversation if it was going to go anywhere.

  “Jennifer tells me you flip houses for a living.”

  “Yeah.” Billy answered with only half his attention. The other half was focused on Jen. She was so pale and still lying there. The last thing he wanted to do was make her more tired.

  “It must be hard for you to resell a house once you've fixed it up.”

  “Sometimes.”

  “Jen says the house you're living in now is really nice from the outside. You have a three season porch, don't you?”

  “Mm-hmm.” Billy could see Jen's eyelids drooping and thought he should find a way to leave her to her rest.

  “That must be a good selling point,” Neil said, soldiering on.

  “Why don't you and Mrs. Stanley drop by to see the house one day next week?” Billy really didn't think they would come, but it was one way to stop the man from talking so he could make a casual exit.

  “Wonderful! We'd love that,” Neil told him. “We'll probably be bringing Jen and the kids back the beginning of the week, so we'll see you then.”

  “Sure. If you see my truck in the driveway, just knock on the back door.” Billy didn't know what else to say. It's not that he wasn't friendly or didn't like visitors. It was just one more way that he was getting tan
gled up with Jen Prescott. And hadn't he just decided this morning that getting mixed up with that family was a no-win situation?

  “Guess I'd better go. It looks like Jen's falling asleep,” Billy told him.

  “Yes, she needs sleep more than anything right now,” Neil said, his eyes on his daughter's wan face. No matter how many times they'd been through this, her pain always clutched at his heart. He put the plant on the small table in the corner and went to stand at the head of the bad.

  Billy was touched by the look in Neil's eyes. That's how he must have looked every time little Willie was in the hospital. It all brought back too many painful memories. But he knew very well what the man was going through and his heart went out to him.

  Billy extended his hand across Jen's sleeping body.

  “It was good to meet you, Neil.” He grasped the older man's hand tightly as if to give him some of his strength. “Just call on me anytime if I can help.”

  “We will, Billy, and thank you again,” Neil replied, taking heart from Billy's powerful grip.

  Billy made his escape, not sure if he was relieved that he'd avoided any deeper entanglements for the moment or frustrated that he couldn't do more for Jen and her family.

  For now, he'd leave the hospital with a clear conscience for having done his duty by his tenant. But he knew he was kidding himself in more ways than one. It hadn't been duty that had sent him to the hospital with a plant in his hand, and it hadn't been fear of becoming entangled that had sent him scurrying out of the room.

  He was already entangled, and he knew it.

  * * *

  Jen woke from her nap an hour later, and the first thing she saw was Billy's gift on her bedside table. The nurse must have moved it. That little bit of greenery in a bright yellow pot gave her heart a lift, as did the man who had brought it.

  Billy Easton was such a good-hearted man, with the kindest brown eyes she'd ever seen. Jen wondered what they would do after he inevitably sold the front house and moved on. Would they have to move on, too? And how would she feel about losing Billy Easton for a friend?

  Jen shuddered at the thought. If there was one thing she'd learned in her married life, it was that she had only herself to depend on and she couldn't allow herself to trust anyone to take care of her ever again.