Missy Tippens - The Doctor's Second Chance

He bounced Abigail in his arms, but she wouldn’t be consoled.

Violet moved an inch and stopped. Would he think she was interfering?

People turned to look at Jake. He grabbed a bottle and impressed Violet with how quickly he popped it into Abigail’s mouth. But she refused it and continued to squall.

With stomach tensing, Violet leaned forward, ready to spring over beside Jake.

Grace Hunt rose from her seat. With her bobbed white hair, she walked up the aisle toward Jake. Smiling, she held out her arms to take the infant. He handed her over along with a pacifier.

As Grace walked away, bouncing Abigail, the crying stopped. Jake heaved a sigh and relaxed against the back of the pew.

Violet had missed her chance. Yet maybe this woman would be the perfect helper for Jake. After the service Violet would suggest Jake ask her for pointers, and maybe Grace could—

Violet’s phone vibrated in her pocket. A message from the hospital reporting a five-year-old patient in the ER with dehydration.

On autopilot, she grabbed her purse and slipped into the side aisle, heading toward the exit. Grace stood in the back swaying, holding the pacifier in Abigail’s mouth. She smiled and nodded at Violet as she passed. Violet returned the smile, yet couldn’t help checking out the baby.

Looking happy and healthy, Abigail sucked on the pacifier while she observed the kind woman holding her.

A wave of disappointment washed over Violet, quickly replaced by irritation. She should not be disappointed that Jake didn’t need her help. She should be pleased this woman had offered assistance. Hadn’t that been one of Violet’s goals for coming today?

Jake had a friend who could teach him to care for the baby. It was time for Violet to return to work mode, to make sure her interest in Jake and Abigail remained strictly professional.

Chapter Three

“You sure are calling early,” Aunt Edith said on the other end of the phone line. “It’s barely 6:00 a.m.”

Jake stood in his kitchen bouncing Abigail in the crook of his arm. She’d been fussy since she woke at five o’clock.

All morning, he’d tried every trick he knew to soothe her, including walking around the yard before dawn and swinging on his childhood swing set while holding Abigail. She would settle for a few minutes but then start fretting again.

Unlike during her nighttime crying jags, at least she was finally taking her bottle this morning.

“What’s that noise?” Edith asked. “It sounds like a baby.”

“That’s because it is a baby.”

“Is there something you need to tell us?” she said with a laugh.

If only the whole thing were a joke and he could laugh along with her. “Actually, there is. Why don’t you put Uncle Paul on the other phone?”

Edith called for her husband to pick up the other extension, telling him Jake had something important to tell them.

“What is it, son?” Paul asked.

“Remy came by a couple of days ago.”

Edith gasped. “How is she?”

“She’s okay. Looks pretty good, actually. And she’s had a baby.”

Silence.

“Sorry,” Jake said. “Wish I could have prepared you better for that bombshell. But she showed up Friday evening, claiming she’s been clean for a year now but saying she’s not good mother material. She left the two-week-old baby with me and took off.”

“What?” Edith nearly shrieked, probably trying to imagine him taking care of her infant grandchild.

“I don’t know what to say.” Paul sounded worn-out, as if he’d taken one too many emotional beatings.

Jake’s aunt and uncle had been through a great deal of pain and disappointment with their daughter, who’d lied to them, stolen from them and nearly depleted their savings in rehab programs. They’d had to practice tough love for their own sanity.

Once they’d refused to enable her any longer, Remy’s rare visits ceased. Because of financial difficulties, the couple had decided to sell their practice and retire early. They moved south to heal.

Jake hated to be the one to reopen the wound. “I’m sorry to call. I tried waiting, hoping she’d come back in a day or two. But she hasn’t. I have no contact information. No license plate number. Nothing with an address except hospital records, and who knows if Remy still lives there?”

“We have a grandchild,” Edith whispered, tears choking off her voice.

With a whimper, Abigail drew her knees in and spit out the nipple. Not now.

“Yes, and Remy put in writing that she wants me to raise her,” Jake said.

“We have a granddaughter?”

“Edith,” Paul snapped. “A baby isn’t going to instantly make us some normal, happy family. She’ll come back for the girl, disappear and break our hearts all over again.”

His aunt began to cry. Then the phone line clicked as she hung up.

“Uncle Paul?”

“Yeah, I’m still here. What do you plan to do?”

No offer of help. Jake was on his own.

The baby started to fret. He put her to his shoulder and walked outside. What was wrong with her this morning? Was she sick?

“I’ll wait it out,” Jake said. “I’m sure Remy will come back. In the meantime, I had Dr. Crenshaw check her out.”

Paul harrumphed.

“I know we didn’t like the terms of the contract, but I think she’s a good doctor,” Jake said, looking across his backyard to the doc’s house.

She sat at the table on her patio. Had she heard him mention her name to his uncle?

“I’m sure she’s a good doctor,” Paul said. “She had impeccable references. I just didn’t like her negotiating. Didn’t like her evaluation of our business practices.”

Violet stood and started toward him. Great. Just what he needed while his uncle got on a roll.

“Hey, listen. The baby’s fussing. I should go.”

“You didn’t say whether the baby checked out okay.”

“She’s fine.”

“That’s a relief. Maybe Remy managed to take decent care of her.”

“I need to go. The neighbor’s heading this way.” He wouldn’t specify which neighbor.

“Okay. I imagine Remy will turn up soon, unless, of course, she’s back on drugs.”

And wasn’t that the story of Remy’s life? Her problems with drugs had wrecked her life and pretty much destroyed what family Jake had left. “Tell Aunt Edith not to worry about this big clod handling the baby. Doc Crenshaw came over and trained me.”

Paul let out a groan. “Don’t get sucked in by the pretty doctor. I’m sure Grace Hunt from the church will be glad to help you.”

The pretty—more like beautiful—doctor stood in front of him wearing running shorts, an Emory Medical School T-shirt and running shoes. Jake’s neck heated. Surely there wasn’t any way she’d heard their conversation.

“I’ll get the situation figured out,” he said to his uncle.

“We can always depend on you, Jake,” Paul said. “I’ll let you know if by some wild chance we hear from your cousin. Don’t tell Edith or it’ll get her hopes up, but I’ll do some checking to see if I can locate Remy.”

“Thanks.” They hung up, and he forced a smile for Violet. “Good morning. What’s up?”

“I heard Abigail crying earlier when I was out running. Thought I would check on you.”

“Making house calls now, huh?” He stuffed the rejected bottle in his pocket, brought Abigail to his shoulder and then gently patted her back. “Come on, sweet thing. Give a nice big burp for Cousin Jake.”

Abigail complied by spitting up across his shoulder and down his back.

“What’s the deal, Abigail?” he said.

“Some spitting up is normal. Here, let me take her.” Violet took the baby and they headed inside the kitchen.