Page 102 of A Million Times, Yes
“Nurses are sometimes a different breed.” I winked.
She licked the corners of her mouth. “As I was walking out of the restaurant, I passed the table where the woman had been eating and noticed something on the floor. It was—”
“My name tag.”
“Yes, darling. During all the commotion, it had dropped from your breast pocket. So I picked it up and brought it home, and I kept it in my kitchen drawer. You never know when things like that come in handy—and look, two years later, it did.”
I couldn’t believe what I had just heard. I remembered the day as though it were yesterday and the way I’d flung out of my chair, mid-bite, to help the woman. That wasn’t the first time I’d been in a situation like that, and I didn’t think it would be the last.
“Bettie, what if I didn’t work at the rehab center anymore?”
“Then I would have gone where you moved to. But I knew that if something happened to me and I needed to be cared for, I wanted you to be my nurse. So I got your boss on the phone and I asked him what it would take. All the while, my daughter was hiring every Tom, Dick, and Harry to come here and care for me, and I was firing everyone who walked through the door. They weren’t you, my dear.”
She reached into her pocket and pulled out the name tag I’d dropped that day, not realizing it until I got home, assuming it had fallen off at work or walking to and from the restaurant or anywhere in between.
She set the name tag in my hand. “I won’t be needing this anymore. I have your number now, and you’re so ingrained in my heart, I know if I need you, you’d be here in a second.”
“Before you even blink.” I hugged her. “You can be sure of that.”
Melinda poked her head into the living room, gazing between the two of us. “Mom, you just told her the restaurant story, didn’t you.”
As I pulled back, I wiped the corners of my eyes. “She did. What a coincidence.”
“Did she tell you that she no longer speaks to the orthopedic surgeon?” Melinda grinned while she shook her head.
“She left that part out.” I laughed.
“That luncheon was the end of their friendship,” Melinda added. “Mom wouldn’t even return his calls.”
“You’re quite the stickler, Bettie.”
She shrugged. “I don’t need friends who don’t have the courage to stand up and help those in need. Heroes come in every size and shape, and help can differ greatly depending on the circumstance. That day, my girl, you certainly were wearing a cape.”
I gave her a smile.
And deep down, I knew her comment extended beyond the medical care I’d offered that day. If I’d learned anything about this family, it was that for the things they had taken, they had given back so much more.
Melinda sat in the chair across from us. “You know, it’s funny—when I met you about a week ago, and I told you that Mom had fallen in love with your care and had some strings pulled to have you as her nurse, it dawned on me that I never asked Mom how she knew you.” She crossed her legs, holding her knee. “Mom had told me the restaurant story when it happened, but I didn’t know the nurse was you. I couldn’t believe it—the chances of Mom finding you two years later, and my Jordan falling for you too.”
I rubbed Bettie’s hand on both sides. “I’m not sure what to say either. I came in from every angle, I suppose.”
“Things have a way of working out just the way they’re meant to.” Bettie put her hand on my face. “And you, my dear, were just meant to be in this family.”
“Sorry I’m running late, Mom,” I said as I rushed through her front door, tossing my set of keys back into my purse. She sat on the couch with a laptop on her legs, and looked up from the screen when I walked into the living room. “I helped take Bettie home from the hospital, and it took a little longer than I expected.”
“Melinda’s mom, right?”
“Yes.” I sat next to her and peeked at the computer screen, rubbing my arms to warm them up. Where Bettie’s town house had been almosttoo hot, Mom’s apartment was cold, always matching the temperature it was outside. “Are you working?”
“I just wanted to get caught up on some things and respond to emails I didn’t get a chance to while I was at the office.”
I’d never seen my mom use a computer. We didn’t have one when I was growing up, and she’d never brought one home from any of her jobs.
I pulled the elastic out of my hair and let my locks fall around my face. “What is it that you wanted to talk to me about?”
She closed the laptop and set it on the coffee table. “See my purse on the counter over there?” She pointed toward the kitchen. “All of my bills are stacked inside. I wanted to go over them with you and see if you can help me consolidate my credit cards so I can start paying down my debt.”
I stared at her for a moment, comparing the three mothers I had been around today and the differences between them. My mother hadn’t even reached out to hug me when I sat beside her, something I probably wouldn’t have even acknowledged if I hadn’t just been with Bettie, who held my hand more than she didn’t.
