Family by Design

J.C. wished he could think of something to distract her, to ease the pain from her face. But fun hadn’t been on the agenda for quite a while now.

Chrissy settled in her seat, scooting forward suddenly, pulling up a bag that was wedged beneath her. “What’s this?”

“Some trial medications for a new patient. I’ve been meaning to drop them off …” But every time he thought about it, he pictured Maddie’s anger.

“Why don’t we go now?”

He stared at his niece. “You want to go?”

She shrugged. “Nothing else to do.”

Except a mountain of dictation, articles, more work than he wanted to think about. “Right.” But the stop would distract Chrissy. “Nothing else to do.”

The Carter home wasn’t far. J.C. had copied their address on the sample bag. Located in one of Rosewood’s oldest neighborhoods, the house was an unimposing Victorian. Neither grand nor tiny, it spoke of the families that had inhabited it over the generations. The yard and flower beds were tidy, the porch and driveway well swept. But he noticed the aging roof and the peeling paint on the second-story fascia and gables.

An aged but inviting swing flanked two well-worn rocking chairs on the wide porch. It was quiet as they climbed the steps, then knocked on the outer screen door.

Within just a few moments the door swung open. Taken aback, Maddie stared at him, then collected her voice. “Dr. Mueller, I wasn’t expecting you.” Her gaze shifted to include Chrissy. “Hello.”

Chrissy ducked just a fraction behind him. J.C. put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “This is my niece, Chrissy.”

“Good to meet you, Chrissy.” Maddie pushed the screen door back. “Come in. I just put the kettle on.”

Chrissy looked up at him in question.

J.C. patted her back. “Actually, we just stopped to drop off samples of a new medication for your mother.”

“Do you have time for tea?” Maddie asked, not a bit of the anger he remembered anywhere in sight.

He glanced down at his niece. She didn’t look averse to the idea. “I guess so. Thanks.”

“Mom’s in the living room,” Maddie explained, leading the way from the small entry hall. She glanced at Chrissy. “In a house this old, they used to call the front room a parlor, but ours isn’t the elegant sort.”

Looking intrigued, Chrissy listened quietly.

“Mom? Dr. Mueller stopped by to have tea.”

Lillian sat in a faded green rocker recliner. Seeing her guests, she brightened. “I love meeting new people!”

“This is Dr. Mueller’s niece, Chrissy,” Maddie began.

Lillian clapped her hands together. “Oh, my! You look an awful lot like my Maddie when she was your age.” She patted the chair next to hers. “Come. Sit.”

Chrissy’s normal reluctance dimmed and she crossed the room. “I thought you knew my uncle James.”

Lillian smiled. “Perhaps I do. You’ll have to tell me all about him.”

Chrissy looked at him, then turned back to Lillian.

“He’s a doctor. And he’s real busy.”

J.C. flinched.

“I imagine you stay busy with school.” Lillian’s gaze landed on the ever-present backpack. “Just like my Maddie, always did her homework straightaway.”

Chrissy stroked the pink bag and halfheartedly shrugged. “Sometimes.”

Lillian’s eyes glinted with mischief. “Sometimes we baked cookies first or built a playhouse.”

“You built a playhouse?” Chrissy asked in wonder as Lillian dug into the purse that was always at her side.

Lillian produced a roll of Life Savers and offered them to Chrissy. “Sure did. My father thought a girl should know how to use a hammer and a saw. He liked to make things with his hands, so he taught me in his workshop.”

Chrissy swallowed. “My dad did, too.”

Lillian patted her knee. “Sounds like we had wonderful fathers.”

Strange. It was as though somehow Lillian sensed Chrissy’s father was gone, as well.

J.C. heard a whistle from the other side of the house. No doubt the teakettle. Considering, he watched his niece, saw that her attention was entirely focused on Lillian. Pivoting, he followed the sound of the fading whistle to the kitchen. A carpet runner covered the oak floor in the long hall; it also muffled the sound of his footsteps.

He paused beneath the arched opening to the kitchen. Maddie was scurrying around the room, pushing strawberry-blond hair off her forehead with one hand, reaching for a tray with the other. Seeing that it was perched on one of the higher shelves, he quickened his pace. “Let me get that for you.”

Whirling around at the sound of his voice, she looked completely, totally, utterly flustered.

“Guess I need to stop doing that. Coming up from behind, surprising you.”

Her throat worked and her blue-gray eyes looked chastened. “I feel terrible about how I reacted the other day. It’s just that Mom’s gotten so fragile, and …” Moisture gathered in her eyes and she quickly wiped it away. “I’m so afraid that the next stroke …” Again her throat worked, but she pushed past the emotion. “I know she needs these tests—”

J.C. lightly clasped her arm. “Being a caregiver is the most stressful job I can imagine. Do you have enough help?”

“Help?” Maddie nodded. “Samantha relieves me so that I have some extra time when I run errands, but she has her own family to take care of. Neighbors and people from church sit with Mom, too, when they can.”

He’d reread the file and knew that Lillian was widowed. With no siblings, did that mean that Maddie was the sole caregiver? “It’s important that you have time for yourself.”

She laughed, a mirthless sound. “Hmm.”

Spotting the cups on the table, he took her elbow, guiding her to the table. “Let’s sit for a few minutes.”

“But your niece—”

“Is taken by your mother. Best Chrissy’s acted in a while. Tea smells good.”

Distracted, Maddie glanced at the tabletop. “It’s probably the vanilla you’re smelling.”

J.C. sat in the chair next to hers. “Who else helps you take care of Lillian?”

“Just me.”