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The sound tore at Spring. Little Jeremy’s moan was one of the most pitiful sounds she had heard in a long, long time.
“Dr. Spring is right here,” David told his son.
The boy lifted his head a bit. “Pretty Spring?”
“Yeah, buddy. It’s Dr. Spring.”
Despite the strain she saw evident in the worry lines at his mouth and brow, Spring heard a note of amusement in David’s voice as he answered Jeremy. She’d been called many things in her thirty-five years, but this cute little boy calling her pretty just tugged at her heart.
It was clear Jeremy had more than just a bad case of stomach flu or too many jelly beans. Her mind raced with possibilities, none of them good.
“Noooo!” Jeremy cried out when David tried to place him on the gurney manned by two orderlies.
“It’s okay, buddy,” David assured his son, who resisted lying down. “I’m right here.”
“Want Dr. Spring.”
“I’m here, too, Jeremy,” Spring said with a nod toward one of the orderlies. “If you’ll lay back, we’re going to take you into a room where I can see what’s making your tummy hurt. Okay?”
The little boy nodded and did as she requested, but tears streaked down his face and he sought his father.
Spring glanced up at David.
“Can I come back?”
She nodded. “Of course.”
* * *
Helpless and anxious, David watched as emergency room attendants wheeled his son into a room cordoned off with curtains and hooked him up to machines.
David was terrified, so he could only imagine how Jeremy must feel. He reached deep for the anchor that would stabilize him. He needed to be strong for his son, not show the panic that raced through him. His heart beat so fast that he feared he might end up on a gurney next to Jeremy.
A moment later, he was politely asked by one of the attendants to step back.
“I can’t leave my son.”
A soft hand on his arm drew his attention. Spring was there.
“David, you don’t have to. They just need some room to work.”
He glanced around and saw a nurse or a doctor wheeling some sort of machine. He quickly moved to a spot she indicated, where he could stand and hold Jeremy’s hand and not interfere with the tests they needed to run.
“Lord, you took her. Please don’t take him, too,” he whispered in an anguished plea. “He’s all I have.”
* * *
As she’d expected, the diagnosis wasn’t good. Fortunately, it was something that was fairly routine for the hospital. Spring consulted with the emergency department’s attending pediatrician while David Camden remained in the emergency room bay with Jeremy.
“We have done an ultrasound and a CT scan,” Timothy Paquette, the department’s pediatrician, told Spring.
Worried, Spring bit her lip. “I sent him home thinking it was just gastroenteritis.”
“I would have done the same thing,” Dr. Paquette said. “I took a look at the lab you did at the clinic. With his other symptoms, it made sense.”
Spring nodded, but his words didn’t make her feel any better. She just wanted to take Jeremy in her arms and hug all the hurt away.
“You want to talk to his father, or should I?” Paquette said. “Dr. Emmanuel should be here in about five minutes. The OR is ready just as soon as he gets here and the father gives the okay.”
“I’ll tell him,” she said, knowing from experience the reaction he would have.
David jumped up from his chair when Spring entered the waiting room. Telling him his son was so sick wasn’t going to be pleasant; this part of the job never was.
“Mr. Camden—”
“Call me David,” he said, grabbing her hand. “Is Jeremy all right?”
He was clutching her hand so tightly that Spring winced.
He immediately dropped it. “I’m sorry. I’m just worried about Jeremy.”
Spring resisted the urge to massage her throbbing hand. “He has appendicitis,” she said. “Dr. Adam Emmanuel is ready to operate once we get your approval.”
“Operate? His appendix? But he’s just four,” David said.
“Appendicitis is not uncommon in children,” Spring said. “Toddlers, even infants, can develop it. But it’s harder to diagnose in the younger ones.”
David Camden looked genuinely distressed. “Are you sure?”
Spring didn’t know if his question was a result of her earlier misdiagnosis or the first and typical question from a worried parent of a sick child. Either way his question reminded Spring about their precarious financial situation. This was one of those situations where the generous donations to the Common Ground ministries paid off. The surgery Jeremy needed would not bankrupt his father or leave him with the choice between paying medical bills or paying to keep a roof over their heads, even if said roof was that of a hotel.
She nodded in answer to his question. “This is something that can’t be ignored,” she told him. “And it can’t wait. If his infected appendix isn’t removed, it could burst or leak, and that would lead to peritonitis, which can be fatal, particularly in children.”
She didn’t want to scare him, but he needed to know all the facts to make an informed decision regarding his son’s health.
David swallowed. His gaze connected with hers. She’d seen it before, the parents of her young patients looking in her eyes and trying to determine if she was leading them in the right direction.
“I...” David swallowed again, then took a deep breath and ran his hand over his face. “He’s never been sick. Nothing like this. I just... Is he going to die?”
Spring’s heart ached. She wanted to close her eyes and cry out at the arbitrariness of illness. But she maintained eye contact with him. “We need to get that appendix out as soon as possible.”
“Was it something I did? The jelly beans?”
She placed her arm on his. “Mr. Camden...David, it’s not your fault. It’s not anyone’s fault. There is no way to prevent appendicitis. It happens or it doesn’t. All we can do is deal with it when it does occur. And Jeremy is in good hands. Dr. Emmanuel is board certified and our top pediatric surgeon.”
He nodded.
“I know he’s in good hands,” David said. He looked away for a moment, as if embarrassed again, then met her gaze. Spring was sure he was going to ask how much the operation would cost.
“Dr. Darling, I don’t know you, and I don’t know if you’re a woman of faith. But I need to pray right now. Will you join me?”
The question was not at all what she’d expected. But without a moment’s hesitation, Spring nodded. That this man who had so much on him would ask a virtual stranger to pray with him said a lot about his character.
She bowed her head and a moment later felt his hand connect with hers. It was warm and strong and felt like an anchor in a storm. Given that he was the one in need, Spring could only marvel. When he began praying, she felt her own resolve grow stronger.
* * *
The surgery would last the better part of an hour. Parents, even the parent of a four-year-old, weren’t allowed in the operating room. So rather than watch him pace the waiting room for an hour, Spring suggested they go to the hospital’s cafeteria for a coffee.
Although open in the middle of the night with reduced kitchen staff, the cafeteria remained essentially empty with few people filling the gray-and-black aluminum chairs. Spring led the way across the room.
“Pardon the retro penitentiary waiting room look,” she told David. “This part of the hospital, while open to the public, is used primarily by staff, so it’s last on the renovation list. Patient rooms and family waiting rooms were the hospital administration’s first priority.”
Spring got a couple of coffees, and they settled at a table near the windows overlooking a courtyard in shadow.
“When the weather is nice,” she said, “people like to go outside to eat or take a coffee break. The fresh air itself is medicinal, especially when you’ve been cooped up inside for hours.”
She knew she was babbling, but she couldn’t seem to help it. She was at a loss as to why she was so nervous. Over the course of her eight years at Cedar Springs General, she’d had hundreds of conversations with the parents of her patients, many of them in this very cafeteria. There was no reason for her heart to have such an erratic rhythm or for her hands to feel so clammy.
It was as if she were suddenly displaying symptoms of hypoglycemia or an anxiety attack. Since she was prone to neither, she had a pretty good idea of the cause of the rapid-onset malady.
“Mr. Camden—”
“David,” he said.
Her mouth edged up in a slight smile, and she nodded. “David, Jeremy is in excellent hands with Dr. Emmanuel. He’s one of the best in the region, and Jeremy’s a trouper.”
She watched as he looked about the room at the empty tables. Across the cafeteria, a maintenance worker had parts of an ice machine’s compressor on the floor and a couple of nurses were chatting as they sipped from tall tumblers.
“I guess I’ve been rather preoccupied lately.” He stirred his coffee although he’d added neither cream nor sugar to it.
Spring wanted to, but she didn’t ask the obvious question: preoccupied doing what? Whatever he wanted to tell her would come out in his own way.
“Jeremy has rarely been sick,” he said. “He had a bit of colic when he was much younger, and he’s had a couple of colds, but never anything that required being in the hospital, let alone an operation of any kind. I’ve been blessed that he’s had good health.”
When his gaze again connected with hers, Spring saw the beginning of panic in his eyes.
She reached out a hand and placed it on his arm in a gesture of comfort.
“I’m a grown man,” he said, “and I’ve never had an operation. Not even my tonsils out. He has to be terrified. I should be—”
“You can’t be in the operating room,” she reminded him. “The procedure will take about an hour and a half. Dr. Emmanuel has barely gotten started. We’ll be there in recovery when Jeremy wakes up. He needs you to be strong and focused. He’s going to be sore for a while afterward.”
David nodded. Then he wrapped his hands around the mug and contemplated the brown liquid in it. “I know.” He exhaled as if releasing all the tension that had built up inside him. “I know,” he said again.
Spring sipped at her coffee, letting the silence act as a balm to his tattered emotions.
“There’s something you need to know,” he said. “About me. Us, I mean. I’m not homeless. We’re not homeless,” he clarified.
“You don’t have to—”
“Yes,” he interrupted. “I do. I know you heard what happened at the clinic—about my insurance card. But I really did leave my wallet in the hotel room. I’m here in Cedar Springs for...for some business meetings. My sitter, who is my mother, is out of town. She had the dates of this trip mixed up. That’s why Jeremy is with me. I don’t normally have a four-year-old when I go on business trips.”
“What type of business are you in?”
A buzzing sounded before he could answer her.
“Excuse me,” Spring said, lifting a phone from her pocket. “I need to take this.”
He nodded, and she answered. “This is Dr. Darling.”
She listened for a moment, her eyes going wide. “Oh my. Okay, I’ll be right up.”
“What is it?” David asked. “Is Jeremy all right?”
She nodded to David and motioned for him to get up.
“Excellent,” she told her caller. “I’ll be there shortly.”
“I’m sorry,” she told him. “There’s been an accident and they need another set of hands in the ER. I can show you the waiting room. It’s quite comfortable.”
* * *
While Jeremy was in surgery and Dr. Darling doctored or did whatever she did, David had plenty of time to pace and pray, stress and worry. The time seemed to pass with the pace of a glacier. Every time he glanced at his watch or the clock on the wall, barely five minutes had ticked by. He eventually sat down and closed his eyes, leaning his head back as he contemplated first the ceiling and then the wall.
“David, I am so sorry!”
His eyes popped open, and he blinked, not at all sure he was seeing her.
Charlotte Camden rushed into the waiting room in a flurry of silk and chiffon, her signature scarves trailing behind her in a flutter of femininity.
He rose as she approached. And a moment later, David found himself enveloped in the scent of Shalimar, the perfume she’d worn with a light touch his entire life. As a young child, he’d known that scent meant comfort and love. It was forever connected with his senses as maternal love, the way a mother should smell.
For just a moment, David was transported to the time when he was nine and his cocker spaniel, Chuckle Boy, had been hit by a car. He’d been inconsolable. The dog had been his best friend since Chuckle Boy was a puppy. His mother wrapped her arms around him, murmuring words of comfort, words meant to make him feel better. But there was nothing that could console him, not when he had to say goodbye to the dog that had meant the world to him.
Now he wondered if his son had any similar sensory triggers. Would Jeremy grow up never knowing a mother’s embrace? Would he end up dreading the scent of a hospital?
He’d just met her this evening, but David knew he was quickly coming to crave the scent of Spring Darling. It wasn’t so much a perfume, more her essence.
David held on to his mother, drawing from her what strength he could. But he was no longer a little boy. His mother couldn’t kiss the boo-boos and make them better. He was a grown man with a little boy of his own. And even though his gut was tied in knots worrying about Jeremy, David knew everything possible was being done to get his son well and whole again.
Drawing his mother’s hand into his, he led her to one of the sofas.
“It’s okay, Mom.”
“It’s not okay,” Charlotte moaned. “I’m mortified. I left Becky’s right after we got off the phone and drove straight to the hotel. The front desk clerk told me you’d rushed Jeremy to the hospital. I was frantic with worry. I can’t believe I let you down like this. And my baby! How is my baby?” Her voice rose along with her panic.
He knew how she must be feeling. If it was anything at all like the way he was feeling at the moment, it was borderline hysteria coupled with a megadose of surrealism. He’d been lucky. Jeremy, unlike other kids, had not suffered the early childhood ailments like ear infections or croup or whopping cough.
“The doctors say it’s his appendix.”
“But he’s only four,” Charlotte protested. “He’s just a baby.”
“I know,” David said. “I thought the same thing. But the doctor said it’s not uncommon.”
Just then Spring entered the waiting room. Although three other people were there now, waiting for word on their own loved ones, her gaze found his almost immediately.
David met her halfway. “Is there any news?”
“He’s heading up to recovery,” she said. “He’ll be out of it, groggy from the anesthesia, but he’s going to be fine, David. He’s going to be just fine.”
David swooped her up into his arms and twirled her around. He planted a kiss on her mouth. “Thank you. Thank you.”
Spring’s joy mirrored his own, and even as he set her on her feet, he led her toward Charlotte.
“Mom, this is one of Jeremy’s doctors. Dr. Spring Darling is the pediatrician I took him to.”
“Well,” Charlotte said with an assessing glance at Spring, “I can’t say I ever greeted your pediatrician like that.”
David gave her a blank look and then whipped his head around to Spring, his eyes widening as the realization of what he’d done sank in.
“I’m sorry,” he said, releasing her hand as if it were suddenly molten lava. “I got caught up in the moment.”
Spring sent a professional smile his way, as if all the parents of her patients kissed her like that. “No problem,” she said. She extended her hand to the older woman. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs.—”
“Camden,” Charlotte supplied, shaking the doctor’s hand. “Believe it or not, it’s the same as my son’s.”
Spring tucked her hands in the pockets of her lab coat. “In my line of work, I never assume anything.”
Charlotte’s shrewd gaze seemed to assess Spring, and David realized with a jolt that he needed to cut off her speculation before it went too far. Dr. Spring Darling had shown not a whit of interest in him. Her concern, and rightly so, had been solely on Jeremy.
“I suppose that’s right,” Charlotte said. “Thank you for the news about my grandson. Do you have children?”
“Uh, Mom, I’m sure Dr. Darling has some other rounds to make. Can we see him?”
“I’ll show you the way,” she said.
Jeremy lay in a hospital bed in the pediatric recovery ward, looking much smaller and younger than he already was.
Going to his son, David brushed the hair back from the boy’s forehead. “Hey there, champ. You came through. To God be the glory.”
Jeremy turned toward his father’s voice, but otherwise he didn’t stir.
“He’ll come around in about ten minutes,” Spring assured him.
And when he did, David knew his son would be delighted to see his pretty Dr. Spring waiting to greet him.
* * *
“May I talk with you a moment?” Charlotte Camden asked Spring.
If she was surprised by the request, Spring didn’t show it. “Of course,” she said, leading her to the waiting room down the hall. The two sat, Spring facing the older woman. David Camden had his mother’s eyes, and she could see some of his other features in her face.
“Thank you for caring for my son and grandson,” Charlotte said. “This is all my fault. I was supposed to be watching Jeremy. This never would have happened if I’d paid more attention.”
“Mrs. Camden, appendicitis isn’t anyone’s fault. It just happens,” Spring assured her just as she had David. “It could have happened anywhere at any time. There’s nothing you or Mr. Camden could have done.”
Charlotte didn’t look convinced. If anything, Spring thought, she looked more worried than she had just a few seconds ago.
“He’s under an incredible amount of stress,” Charlotte said as she fingered the edge of one dangling scarf. “I just wish I could do more for him.”
Since Spring didn’t know what the Camden situation was, she could only make the kinds of sounds that could be perceived as comforting.
With little else that she could tell the distressed grandmother, she made a suggestion that Charlotte get a cup of coffee or tea.
“Thank you, but no. I’ll wait here,” Charlotte said. “I’d like to see Jeremy again when I can. I should have been here. I was getting a massage while my grandson was in terrible pain.”
Spring knew nothing about this family, their situation or relationships, so she couldn’t offer the woman any assurances one way or the other. She was awfully curious.
But the nature of a hospital physician’s interaction with patients meant the back stories and the how it all worked out or even came to be were rarely, if ever, known after discharge. The same would be true of the Camdens once Jeremy was up and around and feeling better.
“Sure,” Spring said. “That won’t be a problem.”
A few minutes later, she saw Jeremy Camden and again wondered if there was another Mrs. Camden in his life.
* * *
Spring found she had not been able to stop thinking about the father and son duo, even after all the unexpected extra hours in the emergency department, getting home and going straight to bed.
Three mornings a week she worked out at F.I.T. gym with her sister. Today, though, she’d begged off after promising that she’d run five miles to make up for it. She’d had specific and necessary errands to run before going to the hospital. There had been a place at Commerce Plaza she needed to visit.
As she walked into the hospital, she carried a two-foot-tall brown teddy bear sporting a natty red-and-white-polka-dot bow tie around his neck.
She wasn’t in the habit of buying gifts for her patients. Like many service professionals who worked with children, she kept a stock of small toys like yo-yos and coloring books with crayons to give to kids, but nothing like this plush bear that was built well and meant to last a lifetime.
Spring was so thankful that Jeremy had come through the surgery and recovery with flying colors. She knew that she was getting emotionally involved. But she couldn’t help it.
Jeremy Camden was now recuperating in a patient room in the pediatric wing of the hospital.
She tapped on the partially open door, heard “come in” and entered the little boy’s room.
“Dr. Spring!” the boy exclaimed when he saw her. He struggled to sit up, then let out an “Ow” and leaned back.
“Easy, Jeremy,” Charlotte Camden admonished her grandson while rising from the chair near the boy’s bed. “You’re supposed to be resting.”
Charlotte pushed the mechanism that raised the bed so Jeremy could sit up.
“Is that for me?” the boy asked, eyeing the teddy bear.
“It sure is,” Spring said. “But you have to do what Dr. Emmanuel and your grandmother say.”
“I am. Gonna have a sore,” he said, tugging at the small hospital gown so she could see as she approached.
“A scar, Jeremy,” his grandmother corrected.
Spring ruffled the boy’s hair and handed him the bear, which Jeremy immediately hugged.
“He’s almost as big as me!”
The delight on his face assured her that she’d done the right thing in buying and giving it to him. “He sure is,” Spring said.
“What do you say?” Charlotte prompted him.
With one small arm flung around the stuffed animal, Jeremy reached for Spring with the other. The hug came naturally to him. It was awkward with the bed rail, the IV and the bear, but so worth it when he said in her ear, “Thank you—I love him.”
“How are you feeling?” she asked as she checked his readings on the monitors near the bed and on his chart. Everything looked good and so did he.
“I get to stay here in the hospital!”
Spring smiled.
“Only a child would see that as a good thing,” Charlotte said with a laugh.
Only a child who was never or rarely sick, Spring amended silently. Now came the recuperation period, and she knew from experience that if he was feeling better, he’d be itching to run around like a little boy with boundless energy.
“Because it was so late when David brought him in, the doctor said they’d like to keep Jeremy for a full day of observation.”
Spring wondered where David Camden was. The nurses said he hadn’t left his son’s side since he’d come out of surgery.
“You just missed David,” Charlotte said as if reading Spring’s mind. “I sent him to the hotel to get some proper rest. He has a business meeting later today and several tomorrow morning and needs to be ready for them. We’ll probably both end up staying the night.”
“Oh.” Spring was surprised at the deflated feeling that rushed through her, but she responded to the older woman. “Yes. That’s good.”
Then she questioned her own actions and second-guessed her motives. Had she brought Jeremy a gift simply to be able to see his father again?
No, she realized. When she saw the bear, her first thought had simply been the towheaded little boy who’d been in so much pain and had been such a trouper.
“Dr. E said I can go home after today and Grandma’s gonna stay at the hotel. Then we go home later,” Jeremy reported.
Spring was still confused about the whole business concerning the hotel versus the house, but she wasn’t about to question Mrs. Camden. She’d already gathered from what David had said and from the quality of Mrs. Camden’s clothing that they were not in the financial trouble she’d imagined.
“I checked with Jeremy’s pediatrician in Charlotte. He suggested a day of bed rest after he’s released rather than a road trip home.”
“And Charlotte is home?”
Charlotte Camden nodded and then smiled. “I was named for the city and for an aunt. I know it gets confusing sometimes. David’s company is based there. I’m the grandma in chief on the board of directors.”