Washed Away

Immaculate even.

So why didn’t it sit right? Cheryl wondered.

“Are you going to put on a cast?” Beth asked, returning loaded with towels and a bucket.

Cheryl shook her head. “Just a temporary back slab, but that should be enough to provide some relief for Flynn. His wrist doesn’t look displaced.” As Beth frowned, Cheryl checked herself and spoke in layman’s terms. “I’m pretty sure it’s just a small break with no deformity, but it will need to be confirmed by X ray. Given the weather, I think your chances of a trip to the hospital are slim. So for now, we’ll stick with the back slab. First, I bandage the arm with cotton wool, then put on a slab of plaster of Paris, which I’ll mold to his arm and attach with a bandage. It’ll come off easily when he gets to the hospital, but that will give him a lot of support and take care of his pain till then. Just keep his wrist in a sling, and once the storm is over, you can take him for an X ray and no doubt they’ll put on a more substantial cast.”

“And he’ll be fine,” Beth said firmly, flashing a smile, but the sparkle of tears in her eyes didn’t go unnoticed by Cheryl.

She narrowed her eyes in concern. Something told her that no matter how much she was needed back in Turning Point, for a moment or two she was needed here, as well.

“Is there anything else on your mind, Beth—apart from Flynn, I mean? Anything else worrying you?”

“Oh, you haven’t got time to listen to my moans,” Beth said airily. “Mitch will be wondering where you’ve got to.”

“Mitch can wait awhile,” Cheryl said gently. “Sometimes it helps to talk….”

“Oh, what would you know?” Beth’s voice was brittle. “I suppose you think it’s easy. I suppose you think that keeping house is child’s play compared to what you do.” Aghast, Beth clapped her hands to her mouth. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. You’ve been nothing but nice and I…”

“It’s all right, Beth.” Cheryl kept her voice calm. Beth’s words might have stung but they weren’t aimed at her personally. Cheryl had been nursing long enough to know when someone was near the edge. Beth’s defensiveness and passive-aggressive responses were signs that needed to be heeded before Cheryl left this vulnerable woman alone with two small children. Tears were flowing freely now, and in the absence of tissues, Beth wept into the towel she was holding, her shoulders heaving as she let out whatever it was she had been keeping in. Instinctively Cheryl headed around the table, dragging a chair over and sitting by Beth.

“I’m so sorry,” Beth sobbed.

“Forget it,” Cheryl said gently. “What’s going on, Beth?”

“You haven’t got time for this.”

“That’s for me to decide,” Cheryl said firmly, taking the pressure off Beth while assuring her patient that she was in control. At the same time Cheryl was painfully aware that she didn’t have the luxury of sitting for hours. It was up to Beth. If she needed help, then she had to reach out now.

“I’m so worried, I can’t sleep, can’t sit down.”

Still Cheryl said nothing, just held the other woman’s gaze.

“Hal says that I’m being stupid, that there’s nothing wrong with Paul.”

“The new baby?” When Beth nodded, Cheryl pushed further, feeling her way slowly, unsure of the real issue here but knowing that whatever it was, it was big to Beth. “So you’ve got two boys now,” Cheryl probed. She was careful not to offer congratulations, not to assume, as most people might, that this should make Beth happy. When the woman literally crumpled before her, Cheryl knew she had been right.

“It should have been three.” Beth’s voice was a pale whisper, and Cheryl held her breath, knowing that the instinctive murmur of sympathy on her lips was not what Beth needed right now. “I should have had three little boys, but my second son, Cody, died.”

“How old was Cody?” Cheryl asked softly when it was clear Beth wasn’t going to volunteer anything more. “When he died?”

“Eight weeks old.” Beth pressed her fingers into her eyes, taking a few gulping breaths before continuing. “Sudden Infant Death Syndrome. I put him down for his afternoon sleep in his room….” She shook her head fiercely, clearly not ready to relive the experience, yet desperately needing to talk. “Hal was out on the farm with Noah….”

“Noah?” Cheryl asked, the name familiar, answering her own question in her mind before Beth did.

“He’s Turning Point’s veterinarian.”

And local hero, to boot, Cheryl thought with a dash of bitterness as she recalled their encounter at the gas station. But Noah wasn’t the issue here, Beth was, and Cheryl listened intently.

“They heard me screaming and came straight in. Poor Flynn. He saw everything. He still remembers it. He has nightmares about it every now and then.” She gave a loaded sigh. “We all do.”

“I’m so sorry.” Her expression of sympathy was appropriate now, and Cheryl squeezed Beth’s hand to show it was heartfelt.

“The coroner said everything that could have been done, had been. Hal and Noah were amazing. He even said that if there had been a hospital next door, they couldn’t have done anything more for Cody.”

“Did that help?”

“Not at the time,” Beth admitted, “but it does a bit now, especially since we’ve got Paul. At least now I know that there was nothing we could have done to prevent Cody’s death. Everything possible was done to try to save him. But when it happened, I was beyond consoling. I fell to pieces for a while.”

“Which is understandable. How about Hal?”

“He was devastated, of course, but in a different way. He’d take himself off to the farm or out to the tool-shed out back for hours on end, fixing things up, building things we didn’t need. He just wouldn’t talk about it to me.”

“Men generally deal with grief in a different way, Beth. They tend to keep it in, whereas women like to talk.”

“Don’t we.” A watery smile trembled on her lips. “He didn’t want me to have another baby. He wasn’t sure I’d be able to cope, and it seems he was right. I can’t sleep, I can’t let Paul out of my sight, and now poor Flynn’s gone and broken his arm because I wasn’t watching him properly because I was too scared to leave Paul.”

Beth’s tears were starting again, and hating herself for her insensitivity, Cheryl sneaked a quick look at her watch.

“He’s a seven-year-old boy,” she said firmly. “And seven-year-old boys are notorious for breaking bones. Believe me, I see it every day. You need support, Beth.” Cheryl squeezed the other woman’s hand again. “Everything you’ve told me—how you’re feeling, Hal’s reaction, your fears for the new baby—are completely normal reactions, given what you’ve been through. Is there anyone here you can talk to?”

“I’ve got lots of friends.” Beth shrugged. “My mom’s nearby.” But her expression belied her positive words and she started to cry again. “They just don’t understand, though. Dr. Holland was great. He warned me I’d feel like this. He said he’d call in, and that I could phone him anytime day or night if I was feeling anxious.”

“He sounds nice,” Cheryl ventured. “He’s the one who just had the heart attack, isn’t he?”

Beth nodded. “He’s Turning Point’s one and only doctor, but he was more than a doctor to me, he was a friend. Noah’s good—the vet,” she added, and Cheryl nodded. “He comes round for a drink every now and then and lets me ramble on about Cody and that horrible day, but I know, even if he tries not to show it, that he’s not really into babies. Not the two-legged type anyway. He’s only interested in his career.”

“I know the type,” Cheryl said, deliberately keeping the edge from her voice. But she did know the type—she’d been married to one, after all.

“There’s no one I can really talk to about it, Cheryl. No one at all.”

Only then did Beth’s plight really hit Cheryl. God, how she wished she were at work. Piles of leaflets and phone numbers were available at the nurses’ station. A psychiatrist was just a telephone call away.

But there weren’t such resources here, and even her time was in short supply.

“Beth, if there was any way I could put things off I’d stay awhile longer, but I really do have to get back.” Cheryl squeezed her hand again. “I have to set Flynn’s arm and return to town, but please don’t think I’m just walking out on you. You really do need some help, and I’m going to do my best to see you get it. Do you want me to ask Mitch to send Hal home?”

Immediately Beth shook her head.

“Please, Cheryl, don’t. It will only make things worse. Look, I’m not about to do anything stupid. I just need some help.”

“Well, you’ve taken the most difficult step—admitting it,” Cheryl said softly.

“If I could just get a decent night’s sleep—”

“You need a bit more than that,” Cheryl broke in. “But it would be a good start. Look…” Standing up, Cheryl turned on a smile and hit Beth with a good dose of practical assertion. “I’m going to speak to Amy Sherwood about you. She’s a doctor who’s come to Turning Point to help with the evacuation. Now, I’m not going to lie and say she’s going to race over. We’re supposed to be here to deal with an emergency….” Cheryl’s voice trailed off as she realized her insensitivity. Okay, this wasn’t exactly the cutting edge of trauma nursing, but it was an emergency to this family at least, and as a nurse, as a woman, Cheryl knew that she couldn’t just dismiss this family’s problems, and neither would Amy. “She’s a great doctor, and once I’ve explained your situation to her, I know that she’ll want to help. Of course, we’ll first have to see how the storm pans out, but once it’s over, either you can come into town or Amy will come out to you before we head back to Courage Bay. We can get the ball rolling. Look, if you ask her nicely, she might even throw in a prescription for something to help you sleep.” That comment lightened the loaded atmosphere just enough for Cheryl to do the hard bit.

“I really do have to get back, Beth. I’m sorry I haven’t got more time….”