“Are you ready to go?” she asked.
“Yes,” Ellen replied. “Will you find out about Grandma Dolores?”
“I’ll phone the hospital this morning,” Anne Marie promised. She’d do it before ten, when the bookstore opened.
When Anne Marie and Ellen arrived at the school, the playground was already crowded with youngsters. The yellow buses had started to pull up, and students in bright jackets leaped down the few steps, like water cascading over a ledge. They all wore gigantic backpacks that threatened to topple them.
“Would you show me where the office is?” Anne Marie asked Ellen. She wanted the little girl to feel needed.
“Okay.” Ellen silently led the way down the school’s wide corridor.
“Would you like to play with your friends now?”
Ellen hesitated as if uncertain.
“Everything’s going to be fine,” Anne Marie assured her. “I’ll call about your grandmother and let you know later.”
Ellen’s eyes brightened and she nodded, then ran off.
Watching Ellen join her friends, Anne Marie walked into the office; she asked to speak to Helen Mayer and within five minutes was escorted into the other woman’s office.
“Is everything okay?” Helen asked immediately, a small frown between her eyes.
“Not really…” Anne Marie described the events of the night before.
Incredulous, the counselor stared at her. “Oh, my goodness.”
“As you can imagine, this has all been a shock.” Anne Marie pinned her gaze on the other woman. “I wonder how she got my phone number.”
“Actually I gave it to her,” Helen admitted a bit sheepishly. “She phoned last week and asked for it and I couldn’t see any reason not to tell her. She said she wanted to talk to you about Ellen.”
To be fair, the school counselor couldn’t have known that Dolores would call in the middle of the night and place Anne Marie in such an awkward position. “I’m going to need the emergency contact number in Ellen’s file,” Anne Marie told her.
“Yes, of course.” Helen turned to her computer and began to type. After a couple of minutes, she said, “The name is Clarisse McDonald.” She reached for a pen and quickly wrote down the number.
Anne Marie took the piece of paper. As soon as she learned about Dolores’s condition, she’d be in touch with Ellen’s aunt.
“Do you know what hospital the paramedics took Dolores to?” the counselor asked.
At the time Anne Marie hadn’t been thinking clearly enough to inquire, but she’d heard one of the EMTs mention Virginia Mason Hospital, which wasn’t far from Blossom Street.
She was telling Helen Mayer this when a bell rang in the distance, indicating the start of classes. The sound caught Anne Marie off guard and she jerked in surprise.
“You get used to the bell,” Helen said. “After a while you don’t even hear it.” She smiled. “You were telling me Dolores is at Virginia Mason?”
“Yes, I think so.” Anne Marie would visit the hospital first. If she hurried, she should be able to make it there and get back to the store before ten.
She stood. “I’ll call you as soon as I know anything.”
“Thanks,” Helen said as she walked Anne Marie to the office door.
Before Anne Marie left the building, she decided to check on Ellen. She stood by the classroom door and peeked in to see Ellen chatting with her friends as if nothing was awry. Relieved, she went out to the parking lot.
When Anne Marie reached Virginia Mason Hospital it was already nine-fifteen. She explained her situation to the woman at the information counter, who gave her Dolores Falk’s room number.
She took the elevator to the correct floor and found Dolores alone in her room, hooked up to IV tubes. Her color seemed improved, Anne Marie thought. When she walked in, Dolores opened her eyes.
“How are you feeling, Mrs. Falk?” she asked as she approached the side of the bed.
“I’m doing better. How’s Ellen?”
“She’s fine. Don’t worry about her.”
Tears welled in the older woman’s eyes. “I can’t thank you enough for taking my granddaughter. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t come.”
“I’m glad to help out.” Never mind that it wasn’t entirely true.
Dolores’s chest rose with a sigh. “The doctor says I’m going to need heart surgery.”
Anne Marie squeezed the woman’s hand. “They have excellent doctors here and—”
“I’m not worried for me,” Dolores said, cutting her off. “My only concern is Ellen.”
“You just concentrate on getting well. I have the number for Ellen’s aunt Clarisse and—”
“No!” Dolores cut her off again. Her fingers tightened on Anne Marie’s.
“She’s the emergency contact you gave the school. So I—”
“Clarisse is in prison.”
“Prison?” Anne Marie swallowed her gasp of shock.
“Fraud.” Dolores closed her eyes again, as if admitting this to Anne Marie embarrassed her. Anne Marie was sure it did.
“What about Ellen’s mother?”
Tears rolled from the corners of the woman’s eyes and fell onto the pillow that supported her head. “Her mother is a drug addict. The state of California took Ellen away from her when she was three years old. I’d lost contact with my daughter—I didn’t even know about Ellen. By the time I learned I had a granddaughter, Ellen had gone through a series of foster homes. It took me a year to get that child to sleep through the night. I won’t put her back in the system. I won’t do that to her.”
“Oh, dear…” Anne Marie said weakly. There didn’t seem to be an adequate response.
“Whatever happens to me, don’t let them put her in foster care.”
Her agitation grew and Anne Marie began to worry. “Promise me,” she pleaded. “Promise me.”
“Of course.” What else could she say?
Dolores relaxed a little after that.
“What about her father?”
Dolores shook her head grimly. “My daughter probably doesn’t even know who fathered this child.”
“Oh.”
“There’s no one else.”
“Perhaps her mother’s clean and sober now.” Anne Marie hated to sound desperate, but the options were dwindling fast.
“She’s not. Last year she rescinded all rights as Ellen’s mother.”
“Oh.” Anne Marie could feel what was coming. Dolores would ask her to watch Ellen while she was in the hospital. A rush of excuses, a dozen valid reasons she couldn’t do it, were on the tip of her tongue. She couldn’t make herself say them.
“That child is the only good thing I have in my life,” Dolores whispered brokenly. “My daughters have both chosen paths that led to spiritual and emotional ruin. I pray for them every day.”
“I’m sure you do, but—”
“I don’t understand where I went wrong. Their father left us twenty years ago, and I raised them alone. I tried to show