Roz Fox - Married in Haste

Which Marlo did when she married a no-account who later walked out, leaving her pregnant, and with Erin a toddler. A self-fulfilling prophesy, according to Kirk.

But Ben had dealt their father a blow when he chose a pediatric residency over the more prestigious orthopedic post he’d been offered at a hospital where Kirk pulled strings to get his son considered.

Sweeping aside old irritants and unproductive thoughts, Ben closed the book on braids. Again he wondered how Abby was getting along. Admittedly he’d put her out of his mind once it became evident that his carefree bachelor days were over. Except, dammit, they weren’t over. The carefree part, yes. But he was still as single as single could be.

Ben snatched the chart from Anita’s hand. “Would you see if Pat can get me out of here at a decent hour today? By two-fifteen. I’ll phone Mrs. Clark and tell her I’m picking Erin and Mollie up from school. I’m friends with one of the teachers. I haven’t wanted to bother her, knowing she’s in a similar spot—worse, since she’s been left to raise her brother’s five boys, one of whom was injured in the quake. I should’ve contacted her before this. If anyone has the lowdown on support groups, it’ll be Abby.”

“Five boys, you say?” Anita shuddered. “The poor woman has my sympathy. I raised six of ’em. Frankly, Ben, I always thought girls would be a whole lot easier.”

“From a woman’s perspective, maybe. From where I stand, two tearful girls and their finicky cat present the most daunting challenge I’ve ever faced.”

This time Anita did laugh as they departed Ben’s office. “Maybe you ought to combine forces with your friend who has the five boys. You could help with her boys, and she could advise you on dealing with emotional girls.”

Ben mulled over Anita’s suggestion as he greeted his next patient and her triplet daughters. If they’d been more than two months old, he might have asked her for advice. But the poor beleaguered new mother needed all the help she could get. Before she left, though, she said something profound that stuck with Ben. “Somebody missed the boat, Dr. Galloway. Every college should offer classes in parenting. At some point in life, most people become one. Yet the only people who get training are those going into early childhood education. Or maybe pediatrics,” she said, tossing him a tired sigh. “I think teacher training is best. Teachers have to be in control of kids six or more hours a day. No offense, but pediatricians only see kids ten minutes at a time.”

He considered her words for the rest of the day. And he recalled the ease with which Abby Drummond had handled Erin’s class. She’d had twenty-two or so kids in that class. The few times Ben had dropped by at the end of the day, Abby appeared calm and unruffled. Who better to teach him the skills he needed to raise his sister’s girls than a woman he already knew and admired?

“Anita!” He met up with her and traded charts. “Was Pat able to rearrange my afternoon schedule?”

“Yes, she managed to clear your afternoon. Actually, she said if you used the time to relax and quit biting off everyone’s head, she’d blank out one afternoon a week.”

“Ouch. Have I gotten that bad?”

“In a word—yes. But the staff can suffer through for a while. We recognize the strain you’ve been under these last weeks, Ben.”

“I’ll have to make a conscious effort to watch myself. I meant what I said during the initial interviews before Steve and I opened the clinic. People spend more hours a day at their workplace than at home. The environment should be pleasant. It shouldn’t contribute to a person’s stress.”

“Yeah, but all work and no play makes guys like Ben and Steve cranky. I know it’s not your fault you both had to cancel your vacations. The staff think you should reschedule those trips.”

“Wouldn’t it be loverly?” Ben quipped. “In a way, Steve ended up being more tied down than me. Not only was his mom hurt, meaning he has to care for her and his wheelchair-bound grandfather, but her house suffered major quake damage.”

Ben had missed seeing the clinic receptionist walk up behind him. “Excuse the interruption, Doctor.” Pat waved a pink message slip under his nose. “Your bank is on line one. What’s this they’re saying about a change of address on your checks? Did you move and not tell us?”

“Jeez, did I forget? I let the lease on my apartment go. Even though Marlo’s house is small and I had to store some of my stuff, I couldn’t bring myself to uproot Erin and Mollie. What really tipped the scales was that my complex didn’t allow pets. Not that it wouldn’t suit me to give away that damned cat, but…” Ben heaved a sigh. “I couldn’t, of course. She sleeps on their bed, and she’s one of the few constants left in their lives.”

Checking the name on the chart, Ben whisked the note from Pat’s fingers. “Anita, tell Mrs. Jensen I’ll be in to see Daniel in a minute. This call shouldn’t take long. My banker’s a former college buddy. He probably assumes the bottom fell out of the medical profession. You watch, he’ll love rubbing in how my new address is quite a comedown from the area I’m leaving.”

Pat tugged the message out of Ben’s lax grip. “Go see Danny Jensen. I’ll tell this bank buzzard to mind his own beeswax. In our books you’re a good man, Dr. Galloway. A good man with a heart of pure gold.”

Was he? Ben pondered Pat’s statement as he paused outside the Jensen room to collect his thoughts. He certainly hoped so. He’d hate to think he’d turned into an unfeeling bastard like his father.

BEN MANAGED to arrive at Sky Heights Elementary ten minutes before classes let out. He’d already stopped at the office to inform them he’d be picking up Erin and Mollie, which meant their teachers would pull the girls out of the bus line. It should allow him a minute to swing by Abby’s classroom first. Considering what his staff had said about needing to make some time to play, Ben pictured meeting Abby later at a sports bar they both liked. Just to relax over a beer and talk like they used to.

He cupped his hands around his eyes and peered into her room. Whoa! He didn’t recognize the dark-haired woman at the desk. She looked fresh out of college. Stepping back, Ben rechecked the room number.

It was the right one. He peered through the glass again. Maybe Abby had acquired an aide. Or the other woman could be a parent, though Ben had his doubts. She didn’t look parental, somehow. But then, what in hell were parents supposed to look like?

The door opened fast, almost hitting his nose. Ben jumped back. Clear green eyes that were probably the result of colored contact lenses took his measure openly. “Well, hello,” exclaimed a breathy, high-pitched voice. “Tell me you’re lost, and that you don’t have a student in my class.”

Ben tugged at his tie, recognizing a come-on when he heard one. “Things have obviously changed since the last time I visited the school. I’m looking for Abigail Drummond. I thought this was her room.”

“Technically it is.” The young woman with the bouncy curls extended a slender hand. “I’m Stacy Thorpe. I’m filling in for Ms. Drummond, but I intend to get the job permanently. And you are?” she prompted, tipping her head coyly.

The bell rang announcing the end of school. Doors opened and kids poured into the hall to line up. A teacher leaving the room directly across from Ben eyed him. She crossed to where he stood. “Hi. Are you looking for Abby? You probably don’t recognize me. I’m Abby’s friend, Raina Miller. I watched her nephews and your nieces the day of the quake.”

He relaxed. “I should’ve contacted you before now, to thank you. A…friend of my dad’s picked the girls up that day. So…thanks for helping me and Abby. My schedule’s been crazy. I came to get Erin and Mollie today and thought I’d take the opportunity to talk to Abby.” A small frown creased Ben’s forehead, especially as the Thorpe woman crowded close, apparently keeping tabs on his and Raina Miller’s conversation.