As she drove to work that day, Hailey thought about Ingrid and Sam. Was love preordained? Did two people really come together at a certain point in their lives in spite of their own plans, in spite of themselves?
An old, deep longing made her chest ache. She’d pretty much managed to convince herself that the relationships in her life weren’t likely to be the male-female variety. It wasn’t that she believed any longer that she was ugly, the way she had as a teenager. In her twenties she’d come to terms with the way she looked, and she’d had her share of dates, but she’d also come to understand that her feeling of alienation from men went much deeper than physical appearance.
Maybe it came from growing up in an all-female household, with a mother who put all her emphasis on beauty and wasn’t able to conceal her disappointment at having a daughter who didn’t look the way she wanted her to look. Or maybe it had to do with losing her father and not trusting any guy to stay around for the long haul.
Hailey had no illusions as to why she’d chosen pediatric nursing as a career. With children, there were no expectations. With them she could let loose the full force of her madcap personality, truly be the person she was usually too self-conscious to reveal around adults. And pediatric nursing, more than any other career choice, offered the opportunity to hold children close, to care for them, to love them, to make them feel better in any and every way she could devise.
She loved her work. There were times when it was painful, when children couldn’t get well and her job was simply to help them die. There were times when she was physically sick from the emotional strain of letting go and saying goodbye. But even then, she never thought for one moment of doing anything else.
But—and it was a but that she managed not to think about most of the time—there was still the dream that every woman had. She wanted the kind of love that Ingrid had found with Sam, and because she was young, Hailey wanted even more. She wanted to know how it felt to carry a living being inside her, to give birth to a baby conceived in passion, to watch and listen to that precious soul as it grew. She wanted to share that experience with a man who felt the way she felt, who wanted what she wanted.
During the past year she’d decided it was time to give up that dream. It was time to compromise. There were children who desperately needed a mother, and she could do that. She’d considered going to a donor bank and having a baby, but she’d come to the conclusion that she had the capacity to love any child. It seemed a waste to grow one of her own when there were babies out there ready-made whose parents didn’t want them or couldn’t care for them.
She made her way up to the ward. Ordinarily she worked a twelve-hour, seven-to-seven shift, but this week she was filling in on her days off so a friend could go to Mexico. The eight-hour shift gave her a little break from routine.
The first thing Hailey did was check the charts to see how her patients had fared since she’d last seen them.
David had cried off and on all night, but today he was drinking a little more of the clear fluids he needed. A quick survey of his room showed Hailey he was sleeping.
Brittany Whitcomb had had chemo that morning, and Hailey went to check on her next. She was curled into a ball on her bed with the sheet and blanket pulled over her head, and Hailey could tell she was crying.
“Hey, sweetie, how goes it? You feeling crappy?”
There was a tiny nod from under the covers.
“Let’s try to figure out what would help. There’s ginger ale here—want a sip?”
Negative shake.
Hailey checked the chart. “You’ve had your anti-nausea meds, so can’t offer you any more of that junk. How about if I sing to you?”
Negative shake.
“Darn, I keep hoping one of you guys will miss the fact that I can’t carry a tune to save my life.” Rhythmically and tenderly she rubbed Brittany’s small, thin back through the covers. “So how about a story?”
A tiny nod.
“Once upon a time, there was a beautiful princess named Brittany who lived in a faraway land.”
Even though Brittany was twelve, the fairy-tale format seemed to comfort her. For the next ten minutes Hailey wove a fanciful story about a princess who had a lot of bad things happen to her. Her mommy and daddy, the king and queen, divorced. Her big sister, the crown princess, married a prince from another country and left home. Princess Brittany was sad and mad, and then, to top it off, she got sick and had to travel to a healing center a long way from her home.
By incorporating the things Brittany had confided to her from time to time into the story, Hailey could suggest ways for Brittany to manage her feelings about being lonely for her family and feeling sick. When the story was done, the young girl had emerged from the protection of her bedcovers, and although she wasn’t smiling, she wasn’t crying, either.
“Really, Hailey.” Margaret Cross’s high-pitched voice made both Hailey and Brittany jump. “It would be nice if we all had time to sit around telling stories, but the fact is, we’re shorthanded. Could you come along please and help collect the lunch trays?”
“I’ll be right there, Margaret.”
The head nurse obviously wanted to hurry the process along. She put a hand on her hip and sniffed several times, but Hailey didn’t budge. Finally she turned on her heel and left the room, and Hailey pulled a face and moaned, “Busted. I’m gonna get three demerits and I’ll bet I won’t get any ice cream for dinner.”
Brittany smiled at last. They talked for a moment about Brittany’s birthday, which was coming up soon, and then Hailey had to go. She left the girl a Stephen King novel she’d smuggled in—Margaret didn’t consider Stephen King suitable reading for a twelve-year-old—and went off to collect trays.
A half hour later she was showing two little boys in the playroom how to do a headstand when Roy Zedyck’s deep voice sent her toppling from her precarious position.
CHAPTER FOUR
“SORRY, HAILEY, didn’t mean to startle you. You okay?” Roy knelt beside her and tried to help her up.
“No.” She scowled at him and twisted away. “Owww.” She’d fallen hard and her elbow hurt. Rubbing it, she sat up. “Couldn’t you whistle or something? I was concentrating on balance here.”
“I really apologize. Next time I’ll give you fair warning. Wish I could do a headstand.” He turned to the boys. “Think if I asked her really nice she’d teach me?”
“Nope,” Tommy declared, shaking his head. “’Cause I think she needs more practice.”
“Yeah,” Ian agreed. “She don’t know how to do it right.”
Roy laughed and Hailey stopped being annoyed. He was easy with kids, and that made up for scaring her.
“You guys have really hurt my feelings. You’re way too critical.” She was never embarrassed by anything she did that amused the kids, but having Roy see her topple over like a felled tree had made her self-conscious. She brushed herself off and got to her feet.
He was still smiling at her, so she smiled back. Who could resist?
“I thought I’d drop by and see how David’s doing.”
Hailey was impressed. In her experience, social workers didn’t usually pay daily visits to clients.
“He’s been asleep since I came on shift, but let’s go check again.” She turned to the boys. “You guys practice those stretches I showed you. You’re not nearly ready for headstands, either. I’ll be back to see how you’re doing