Page 9 of Choosing My Happiness
I became more feisty, bossy, and independent. Fiercely independent. I made my own decisions without the restrictions and rules placed on me. It was a pity that no man measured up to my new and improved standards set by Jim, the prospect from that night. Some days I could still feel his arms around me when I went to sleep. I hoped he had someone who appreciated him.
Tonight, I walked into work for the night shift with my Stanley cup full of coffee. The waiting room was starting to fill up, but seeing as it was a weekday, it wouldn’t be too bad. I stowed my stuff and changed into scrubs before coming back out and meeting the day shift for the handover.
One bed caught my attention. There was a well-dressed African American kid on there with tight curly hair and tear marks down his face. In one of his arms, he was holding a chubby Hispanic baby boy who was patting his face. He held his other obviously broken arm up in the air away from the baby. Beside him, rustling around in a bag, was a white woman with long black hair.
“Ok, my Manny-moo,” she said, sitting up and reaching for the baby to pick him up with hands that also held a diaper and a bag of wipes.
“Let’s change that stinky butt of yours. Are you going to be okay for a few minutes, Eric? I can wait until Dad arrives.” The woman’s voice sounded familiar, but I couldn’t place it. I shook off the thought. I’d met so many people over my time here.
The kid shook his head bravely. “I’m okay Mom. Manny’s stinky,” he said clearly.
“Let the nurse know if you need anything, okay honey?” she said as she placed the baby on her hip and quickly brushed the face of the other boy with a kiss.
He looked up at her. “Ok, Mom,” he said.
“Dad will be here soon. You’re so brave,” she told him.
I approached the bed to check what was happening. “Hi, my name’s Daisy. I’ll be looking after you until–”
“Daisy?” the mom interrupted. I looked at her and things connected in my head. Images from 4 years ago in a different hospital flowed in. I connected the dots.
I gasped. “Janie, hi! What are you doing here?” I opened my arms in excitement. Janie gave me a one-handed hug.
“Oh wow, you’re looking so good!” She sounded just as excited as I felt. My grin was hurting my face, until a smell wafted over. Janie grimaced at the look on my face and indicated the gorgeous but oh-so-stinky baby on her hip.
“I need to change someone.” She winced.
“Restrooms are down the hall that way. There’s a parent’s room next to them. Just let the staff know to buzz you back in.” I pointed out the way to the restrooms.
“Thanks. I’ll be back soon.” She ran off.
I turned back to Eric. “So, how are you, little man? Been in the war?”
“Kid tried to rob my Granny, so I stood up to him until Dad could get there. Dad got them all good though. Him and Midwife.”
“Wow, that’s very tough of you. Is Granny okay?”
“Yeah, I think Dad put his foot down and said she’s moving back home with us. I think he’ll win this time.”
“Sounds like a good idea if Granny is in a rough area. So how’s the pain?”
He nodded in that determined way that I’d seen the club members do when they were hiding the pain. I smiled, remembering what Janie had told me about the two boys that she and Bull were meeting before I left. This was probably one of them. I was happy that things worked out for her.
“Let me know if you need anything else, except food and water. We just need to keep your stomach empty for now.”
I’d seen on his chart that they were thinking of pinning his arm back together under surgery. He had another hour to go before the anaesthetist would be comfortable putting him under. Whatever the assailant had hit him with had smashed the bones, so surgery was likely. Poor kid. He was holding himself up so well for an 8-year-old.
I helped him move his arm back to his chest and tightened a sling around his neck.
“This should help keep it steady,” I told him.
“Thank you, Miz Daisy.” He spoke clearly and politely.
Yep, there was Bull’s careful way of talking right there. This child was Bull’s son, through and through, despite his genetics.
“I’m back,” Janie announced. “How are you, baby?” she asked Eric, kissing him again on the forehead. I saw his relief as she did so.
“He’s as tough as his daddy. Bull would be proud,” I replied for him.
