Starting Now (17 page)

“Sorry, no,” the waitress informed her.

“Can I have a tuna sandwich, then?”

“On wheat, sourdough, rye, pumpernickel, or white bread?” she asked, her hand poised over the order pad.

“Ah …” Ava’s gaze shot to Libby, as if the question had overwhelmed her.

“Wheat,” Libby said, answering on her behalf.

“Lettuce and tomato?”

Ava nodded.

“Mayo?”

Ava smiled. “Yes, please.”

The waitress finished penning the order. “One tuna sandwich on wheat with lettuce, tomato, and mayo, plus a bowl of butternut squash bisque coming right up.”

Libby waited until their food arrived and they were both eating before she made another attempt to broach the subject that needed to be addressed.

“After my mother died, I felt lost and alone,” she told Ava. “Have you felt that way?”

“Sometimes. Do you ever dream about her?”

As soon as Ava posed the question, the memory of a vivid dream played back in Libby’s mind. She set her water glass down but kept her hand folded around the cold glass. “About a month after Mom’s funeral I dreamt that I was in a rowboat on a big lake. It was foggy and I couldn’t see the shore. I was scared and I kept calling out for my mother, until I remembered she couldn’t hear me. I woke up shaking and crying.”

When she stopped speaking, she found that Ava had abandoned her sandwich.

“Do you ever dream about your mother?” Libby asked.

“I did earlier this summer. She was going to the car and I tried to stop her, but she wouldn’t listen. I kept telling her that if she got in the car she was going to die, and she said she didn’t care if she died because her life was hell anyway.”

“Oh, Ava, that must have been horrible.”

The teenager shrugged and reached for the second half of her sandwich.

Libby stiffened and dipped her spoon into the bright orange bisque. It was now or never.

“Sometimes when we don’t have our mothers to watch over us, things happen,” Libby said.

Frowning, Ava looked up and seemed confused.

“What I mean is,” Libby added, leaning forward until her stomach pressed against the edge of the table, “we find ourselves in situations we probably never would be in if our mothers were alive.”

“Did you?”

Libby nodded, although for the most part she’d focused on her studies and strived to be the daughter her mother had wanted her to
be. Thankfully, Libby hadn’t gotten involved with boys or drugs. The thing was, she could understand how that might have happened for Ava.

“As motherless daughters we often look for someone to step in and love us, and we do what we can to be worthy of that love.” Libby sincerely hoped Ava understood where she was leading the conversation without her needing to spell it out chapter and verse.

Ava just stared at her as though she was completely lost.

Beneath the table Libby bunched her hands into tight fists. The only thing left was to ask Ava outright.

She inhaled and held her breath for several seconds. “Do you remember when you met Dr. Stone in the elevator that day in the hospital?” she asked.

Ava smiled. “You like him, don’t you?”

“I do,” she admitted.

“Casey said the two of you are dating.”

This wasn’t the direction she wanted to take their conversation in. “Dr. Stone and I have gone out a couple of times on his boat. The reason I mention him is because …”

“He’s cute.”

Libby agreed.

“Does he really have a heart of stone?”

“Not once you get to know him.”

Not knowing what else to do, Libby stretched her arm across the table and gently set her hand on Ava’s forearm.

“Ava, I realize you don’t know me very well, but I hope you will count me as your friend.”

“Okay,” the girl mumbled.

“If you are ever in any kind of trouble, I want you to know that you can come to me or talk to me about it.”

Ava lowered her gaze to her empty plate. “Okay.”

Libby reached inside her purse for a small notepad and a pen and wrote out her cell number. “You can phone me anytime, day or night, understand?”

Ava looked away.

“Now I’m going to ask you something and I don’t want this to embarrass you.”

Ava continued to stare down at the table.

“Could you be pregnant, Ava?”

The girl’s eyes shot up. “No …” She stood and tossed her napkin on the plate. “I have to go now.”

Libby tried to stop her, but Ava darted away in the opposite direction of the yarn store. She would have raced after her, but Libby had yet to receive the bill for their food. All she could do was watch helplessly as the teenager made her escape.

“Are you all set for your interview?” Robin asked Libby Wednesday morning on her way out of the gym.

“You’re joking, right?” Libby had such a good feeling about this job opportunity. She couldn’t be more prepared to meet the deputy district attorney. Not only was her résumé up to date, and her references top-notch, but Libby had had a gut feeling about this almost from the moment Robin had mentioned it.

She might have blown her talk with Ava, but this was familiar ground for Libby. Her résumé was impressive, even if she said so herself. Robin had made a point of talking her up at the office, too. Nothing would please Libby more than to inform Hershel—if he were ever to want her back—that she already had another job and it was too late. But then, she’d been confident before and gone down in flames. One minute she was riding high and the next she was batting down doubts.

Robin wasn’t the only one to offer her advice.

“Morning,” Phillip said, meeting up with her in the gym foyer. Clearly he’d been waiting for her.

“Hi.” She held on to her gym bag with both hands.

“I wanted to wish you good luck with that interview this afternoon.”

“Oh, thanks. I might be overly confident, but I have a good feeling about this one.”

“You’ll do great. Call me afterward, okay?”

“Sure.” They walked out together. Just outside Phillip glanced over his shoulder and when he apparently didn’t see anyone, he bent down and gently pressed his lips against hers in a long, slow, lingering kiss.

“For luck?” she asked.

He grinned. “You don’t need luck. You’re going to wow that deputy district attorney.”

His encouragement was better than a weekend’s worth of motivational seminars.

All at once, Phillip frowned. “That deputy is a woman, right?”

“As a matter of fact, yes.”

His brow relaxed. “Good. If you’re going to wow any man I want it to be me.”

“I’ll take that under consideration.”

“Do that, Counselor.”

With that he was off and so was she.

Libby arrived at the hospital an hour later. When she reached the nursery Sharon told her Abby Higginbotham from HR had asked to speak to her.

“Should I phone or go down to Abby’s office?” Libby asked, wondering if there was something wrong. She’d been approved as a volunteer already and couldn’t imagine why the head of HR would want to speak to her.

She’d best find out. Riding the elevator downstairs, Libby realized that she’d found a second home at Seattle General. Over the last few weeks she’d met several physicians and nurses plus other volunteers. Word had gotten around that she was dating Phillip Stone and people
seemed to be curious about her and went out of their way to make an introduction.

Human Resources was on the first floor. Libby stepped into the office and spoke to Abby’s assistant.

“Abby asked to speak to me. I’m Libby Morgan.”

“Oh, hi. If you’ll wait here a moment.”

“Of course.” Libby sat and reached for an outdated magazine while the assistant went into Abby’s office.

She emerged a few moments later and said, “Abby will see you now.” She held the door open for Libby, who walked into the office. Abby stood up behind her desk and extended a hand. “Sit down, please.”

Libby did as requested.

“Can I get you anything to drink?”

“I’m fine, thanks.” Libby was more curious than thirsty.

Abby looked uncomfortable. “I asked to speak to you in order to apologize.”

“Apologize?” Libby repeated. “Whatever for?”

“I understand that Sharon Jennings gave Dr. Stone your personal information. Phillip can be quite persuasive when he wants to be.” The corners of her mouth quirked just slightly with the beginnings of a smile. “According to hospital regulations Sharon should have contacted you first for your approval. I heard about it later and wanted to be sure there isn’t a problem …”

Libby held up her hand. “No problem whatsoever.”

Abby’s gaze held Libby’s. “You’re sure.”

“Positive.” Libby stood, eager to return to her babies. “Is that all?”

“That’s it,” Abby assured her.

Abby escorted her to the door, opening it for her. “We have a huge fund-raising dinner coming up soon. I hope you’ll be able to attend.” She mentioned the date and time.

“I’ll look forward to it,” Libby told her.

When she arrived back at the nursery, Libby realized she was humming. She enjoyed singing to the babies. While knitting calmed her,
she’d discovered that time with these newborns inspired and invigorated her. If anyone had told her as little as eight months ago that she’d be rocking newborns and singing Bob Dylan songs to quiet them she would have laughed them out of her office.

Times, they were a-changing.

When Libby entered the nursery she noticed Sharon looking harried. “Two sets of twins being born,” she told Libby. “We’ve got our hands full.”

“Not to worry, I’m here.”

“I thank the good Lord for that.”

Every nurse on staff was in full gear. The first set, a boy and a girl, arrived in the nursery and the flurry of activity continued as the next set arrived less than an hour later. This time it was two boys, identical twins. All too soon Libby had four screaming and angry newborns demanding her attention.

“Make that three multiple births,” Sharon said, stopping only long enough to take a short break. “This has never happened in all the years I’ve worked at the hospital. Three sets of twins born the same day.”

Libby loved it. The babies filled the nursery and she was just as busy, showing off the newborns to proud grandparents and family members. One grandmother was so excited she started to weep, and when her husband hugged her, Libby saw tears in his eyes, too. This was pure undiluted joy … happiness that could be expressed only through tears.

Libby found out from Sharon that the last set of twins had been born six weeks premature and there were multiple complications. Phillip was called in and the three-pound girls were sent to NICU, the neonatal intensive-care unit.

Once the flurry of activity finally slowed down, Sharon stepped into the nursery and nearly collapsed at her desk. She looked completely exhausted. “Oh, my, I can’t remember a morning like this in years.”

Libby laughed. “There were some pretty excited family members here as well.” She looked up and happened to catch a glimpse of the
wall clock. Twelve fifty-five. What? That time couldn’t be right. It just couldn’t.

“Tell me that clock is fast,” Libby begged as she hurriedly untied the back of her hospital gown. Her heart was already in a panic. If she was late for this interview she’d never forgive herself. Robin wasn’t likely to forgive her either.

Sharon glanced at her watch. “No, it’s right.”

“My interview is today at one,” Libby cried. She raced out of the nursery and was halfway to the elevator before she realized she’d forgotten her purse. Her head and her heart were in total chaos as she tore back down the hallway and grabbed it. Unwilling to wait for the elevator, she took the stairs, racing down them as fast as her legs would carry her, bouncing from one step to the next with such speed that it jarred her teeth.

Once outside she managed to flag down a cab, only to get caught in a funeral procession that ate up an additional five minutes. It seemed everything that could go wrong had or would. While in the taxi, Libby brushed her hair and freshened up her makeup. She’d intended to change clothes but it was too late for that now. Her hand shook so badly that it was a wonder the lipstick didn’t get smeared across her entire face.

Once at the King County Courthouse, she paid the driver and told him to keep the change. Libby was breathless by the time she raced up the multiple sets of stairs that led to the inside of the building.

Getting through security seemed to take a lifetime and then she was forced to wait for the elevator. She was late, so late. Libby couldn’t believe this was happening. Robin was going to be furious, but no angrier than Libby was with herself. Babies. She’d gotten so caught up with the newborns that she’d simply lost track of the time.

Once she was on the right floor, Libby raced down the corridor and paused only long enough to take in a deep, calming breath before she opened the door. Her only hope, her one chance, was if no one noticed how late she was.

“Hello,” she said, giving the woman at the desk her biggest, most charming smile. “I’m Elizabeth Morgan. I’m here for my interview.”

The receptionist looked down at the clipboard in front of her. “Your appointment was at one. I’m afraid you’ll need to wait, as another applicant is with Ms. Rabe at the moment.”