Janet (15 page)

“Gwendolyn,” the poodle’s owner called.
“Gwendolyn, come away from that fence.” A fat little woman with a
red pouty mouth and yellow store-bought curls that bounced like
sausages around her face snapped a leash on Gwendolyn and led her
away, chiding all the while, “Bad doggie. You know that big mutt
next door doesn’t have a pedigree. Bad girl.”

Dan and Peter burst out laughing, and Merry
said, “Uncle Dan, what’s a Pet Agree?”

Dan explained about bloodlines, and by the
time he had finished, they were clamoring for food. He figured they
were either hungry or bored to death. He fed them lunch, got the
sleepy twins into bed for a quick nap, and took down some board
games for Peter and Merry. Then he settled down to watch the
clock.

Janet would be home soon—barring emergencies.
He crossed his fingers and fervently prayed for the good health of
everybody in Tupelo.

o0o

Janet was at her desk studying. Laying her
reading glasses atop her work, she went to the front door.

Her quick pleasure at seeing him was obvious
in her face. He took that as a good sign. She hadn’t seen the
children yet, though, for they were suddenly shy at the thought of
paying a social call a doctor and were hiding behind him. To them,
doctor
meant
shots.

“Dan! What an unexpected pleasure.”

“I hope you’ll still think so when you see
the rest of your company.” He stepped aside and urged the children
forward. “My niece and nephews, Merry, Peter, Butch and
Samuel.”

“The Mayhew children. I should have known
when you mentioned your sister, Betty June.” Smiling, Janet leaned
down and took Peter’s hand. “How are you, Peter?”

“Good, Dr. Hall. I don’t to the hospital and
neither does Merry.” He put his arm protectively around his sister.
Little Butch looked at the doctor and began to squall.

Dan scooped him up and patted him soothingly
on the bottom. “It’s okay, little man. Doctor Hall is our
friend.”

Janet ushered the children through the door.
“Come in out of the cold.” They pressed against Dan’s legs.

“I’ve never seen them this quiet. Do you have
a magic wand somewhere on your person, Doc?”

“No. They’re merely associating me with
sickness and pain. It’s a hazard of my profession.”

Dan’s high hopes for a spontaneous family
evening began to wane. Obviously he couldn’t take four kids and a
pediatrician and make them into instant friends and bosom buddies.
He also noticed Janet’s reserve. Maybe she didn’t even like
kids—except the sick ones. It was a depressing thought.

“We can’t stay, Doc. We’re on the way to
soccer practice.”

“All of you?”

“Yes. My assistant will be there today, and
everybody on the team will be vying for the chance to play with
these little tykes.” He set the now-quiet Butch on his feet and
picked up Samuel, who was looking teary-eyed and uncertain. “I just
came by to tell you that I’ll have to change our plans for this
evening—and to apologize. Betty June called me this morning
and...”

He paused, trying to think of the best way to
explain why he let his sister’s need preempt their plans.

“There’s no need for an apology, nor for an
explanation.” She glanced from Dan to the children. He had never
looked more dear to her. His dark hair, forever mussed, was more
tousled than usual and his blue eyes were shining with love for the
children. He stood watching her expectantly, the expression on his
face both yearning and hopeful. What did he want of her? What could
she give?

She had dealt with patients all morning, sick
who had every reason to be cranky. She didn’t relish the idea of
spending the rest of her day with kids. And yet, these weren’t just
any children; they were Dan’s kin. She took a deep breath.

“Why don’t you leave the children with me
while you have soccer practice, Dan?”

Dan sensed that her heart wasn’t in the
invitation. Anyhow, that wasn’t why he had come.

“Thank you, but no. It’s sunny today and
fairly warm. The outing will do them good. And if it gets too cold,
I’ll leave the practice with Wayne.” He bent over Merry. “Button
your coat, sweetheart.” Then he straightened back up to face Janet.
“About tonight—I thought maybe we could rent movies, and you could
come over to watch them with us.”

“That sounds like fun, Dan, but actually I
have lots of studying to do.”

“I’ll call you, Janet.” He gathered his
children and started for the door.

“Great.”

In the doorway he gave a small wave and then
he was gone, the door closing softly behind him.

Janet leaned against the door. Why had she
turned him down? It wasn’t that she didn’t like children. It wasn’t
even that she didn’t want to be with the Mayhew children.

She went back to her desk and sat down, but
she couldn’t get her mind on her studies. In a rare moment of
spontaneity, she pulled her phone out of her pocket and made two
calls.

Within fifteen minutes, she’d picked up
Belinda and they were on the way to Peppertown. Another fifteen
minutes and the three of them were sitting at Clemmie’s fabulous
antique kitchen table eating homemade cookies and drinking sweet
tea.

“I don’t know what got into me,” Janet said.
“If I can’t stand to be around kids for one afternoon, then maybe
I’m in the wrong profession.”

“Cut yourself some slack, Janet, and have
another cookie.” Clemmie put two more chocolate chip cookies on her
plate.

“Chocolate is not the cure for everything,
Clemmie.”

“I know.” Clemmie smiled. “But it sure does
help.”

“Dan sounds like he’s a great as Reeve with
kids.” Belinda said, her face shining. “Of course, he’s great at
everything.
”

“Belinda, I need to write an article for the
medical journal that we’ve missed the mark with face lifts. All
women need to do is fall in love and they’ll look ten years
younger.”

“It’s true, Belinda.” Clemmie got up and
poured more tea in their glasses. “Janet, you’ve always said you
wanted to marry and have children. Dan sounds like the perfect
family man.”

“He wants six children.”

“You’ve already talked about children!”
Belinda clapped her hand. “This is just peachy!”

Janet loved that for all Belinda’s new
sophistication, she was still the same sweet woman who still found
wonder in the simple pleasures and who used old-fashioned phrases
like
just peachy.

“How in the world could I be a full time
doctor and take care of six children! Let alone
give birth
to them.”

“Think of all the fun you’d have getting
pregnant,” Belinda said, and they all burst out laughing.

“I take it Virginia is having a good time?”
Janet said.

“She’s not talking.” Belinda grinned. “But I
will. OMG, sex is the most
remarkable thing!
” She grabbed
Janet’s hand. “Don’t you dare miss out on it, Janet Hall!”

“Agreed.” Clemmie lifted her tea glass. “A
toast. To sex.”

They were still laughing when they clicked
glasses. Janet felt as if she’d traveled backward to a little cabin
in the woods where seven little girls had solved all life’s
problems with four simple rules.

“I’ve got to go, Clemmie. Have you got some
biscuits for my pockets?”

“OMG, the rules!” Belinda got tickled all
over again. “What was that second one?”

“Say your prayers,” Clemmie said. “You never
know when the camp counselor is watching, let alone God.”

“I like the last one best,” Belinda said.

“You would!” Clemmie and Janet told her in
chorus.

“Oh, Janet. I just want you to be as happy as
I am.”

They did a group hug goodbye, and then
Clemmie sent them off with covered paper plates laden with
cookies.

It was a beautiful afternoon for driving, and
Belinda talked about her new family all the way home. But Janet
listened with only half a mind. The other half was thinking of a
big man with a charming smile and four little children.

After soccer practice Dan took the children
to McDonald’s, their favorite restaurant, and then they rented
three Walt Disney movies.

Back in his house on Church Street, they all
settled in for an evening of movie watching.
Cinderella
was a big favorite with the children, but Harvey loved
Bambi
best. All his hunting instincts came out, and he
pranced and postured around the room, sniffing and whining at the
television screen, and looking so ridiculous that Dan and the
children couldn’t watch the show for laughing at him.

They took a popcorn and let-off-steam break
at eight o’clock. Little Samuel fell asleep, his curly head nodding
down toward his plastic popcorn bowl, and Dan carried him off to
bed. Afterward Dan and the other three children settled back around
the television set and he put the last tape into the VCR.

Halfway through
Snow White
little
Butch began to complain.

“Uncah Dan, I feel funny.”

Dan leaned over the child and felt his
forehead. He’d had enough experience with Betty June’s children to
know how a feverish child felt. Butch didn’t feel hot. “Do you hurt
somewhere, Butch?”

“No.”

Dan had also had enough experience to realize
that finding out a child’s ailment took extensive detective work
and infinite patience.

“Does your head feel funny?”

“A little.”

“Does your stomach hurt?”

“No. It growls.”

“I’m going to let you lie on the couch while
I get a cool cloth for your head.” He tucked a coverlet around the
small child and placed him on the sofa. Harvey padded over and lay
down on the floor beside the little boy, whining his sympathy. Then
Dan went to his bathroom for a cool, wet cloth. By the time he got
back into the den, Butch was bending over, vomiting on Harvey.
Merry and Peter were squealing with excitement and Harvey was
looking a bit insulted.

It took Dan twenty minutes to clean up the
mess and get Butch into bed. Meanwhile Peter and Merry and a newly
scrubbed Harvey had lost interest in the proceedings and settled
back down to watching the movie.

Dan kept a close vigil on Butch, and an hour
later when the child had drifted off to sleep he thought the crisis
was over. At nine-thirty he declared bedtime for Merry and Peter,
who loudly protested that they didn’t have a bedtime, that on
weekends they could stay up forever if they wanted to.

Dan wasn’t conned by them. He knew two sleepy
children when he saw them, and fifteen minutes after their heads
touched the pillow Merry and Peter were fast asleep.

But Butch was awake and being sick all over
his sheets. Dan began to get alarmed. He’d blamed the first
sickness on something Butch ate, but twice might mean it was
something serious.

It was too late to call the druggist and not
serious enough to alarm Betty June in Memphis. Dan washed Butch’s
face, changed the sheets and then left the bedroom and called
Janet’s cell phone.

She answered on the second ring.

“Hello.” She sounded cool and professional.
He felt better just hearing her voice.

“Janet, I’m sorry to call you so late.”

“It’s not late. And I’m glad you called. I’ve
felt guilty about turning down your offer.”

“There’s no need. I understand... Janet?” He
suddenly felt uncertain about what to say. Doctors were highly paid
professionals, busy people. He didn’t know of any of them who made
house calls anymore. Taking advantage of friendships had never been
his style, and yet Butch was his nephew.

“Dan, what’s wrong?”

“Butch is sick.”

“I’ll be right over.”

She arrived within ten minutes. Dan was
waiting at the front door.

As always, her first impact on him was
staggering. Tonight was the same... until he saw the black bag. It
was a sobering sight. Even when he’d visited her at the hospital
and seen her in the white lab coat, he still hadn’t had a clear
vision of her as a doctor. But when she came through his door
carrying the black medical bag, he was suddenly very much aware of
Janet Hall as a doctor. His emotions warred within him: at the
moment he needed her as a doctor, but he also needed her as a warm
and sympathetic woman.

“Tell me about Butch, Dan.” She was coolly,
strictly professional.

“He vomited shortly after eight and again
around nine. He doesn’t appear to have a fever, but I thought twice
in an hour’s time was too much to be a simple upset stomach because
of something he ate.”

“Where is he?”

Dan led the way down the hall to one of his
guest bedrooms. Butch looked tiny and fragile in the large cherry
four-poster bed. Janet hesitated slightly in the doorway, looking
from the sick child to his worried uncle. Dan went straight to the
bed and hovered over his nephew, concern and fear etched in his
face.

Never had keeping her professional distance
been harder for Janet. She wanted to rush to the bedside and take
both child and uncle into her arms, to soothe them with soft words
and tender touches.
This is why doctors can’t care for their
own children during times of illness,
she thought.

The child was sick. Now was not the time for
sentiment. Taking a deep breath she opened her bag and took out the
things she needed—thermometer, stethoscope, blood-pressure
cuff.

“Dan, will you sit over there in the chair so
that I’ll have more room to work?”

He obeyed her quiet command, settling into
the rocking chair and watching as she ministered to his nephew. But
he didn’t watch quietly. Dan was not the type to sit by in silence
when someone he loved was facing a crisis.

“Do you think it’s something he ate,
Janet?”

“Possibly. Did he complain of stomach
cramps?”

“No. He said his stomach growled.”