Evergreen Springs

“Did she have to get a big cast on her leg?” Ty asked before she could answer his sister. “My friend Carlos broke his arm on a trampoline and had to get a big cast. It’s camel-flage.”

“Camouflage, you mean,” Jazmyn corrected him.

“That’s what I said.”

“Your aunt has to stay the night so we can take care of her leg—which isn’t going to need a cast but will probably be in a brace that she can take on and off. I’m not sure if we have one in camouflage but I can see.”

“What about her babies?” the girl asked. “She’s not going to have them tonight, is she?”

Devin hoped not. “I don’t think so. They’re a little too small right now.”

“She’s having a boy and a girl,” Ty informed her. “The boy is going to be Jack and the girl will be named Emma. That was my grandma’s middle name. I never met her because she died. Aunt Tricia said I can hold them anytime I want.”

“I’m sure you’ll be a big help.”

“I’m going to. She said I could even feed them a bottle if I wanted.”

“Lucky.”

“You don’t even know how to feed a baby a bottle,” his sister said skeptically. “I do. I fed you when you were little.”

Since Jazmyn was only a few years older than her brother, Devin doubted the veracity of that claim, but she wasn’t about to call her on it.

“With two babies, there will be plenty of chances for everybody to hold them and feed them.”

“Don’t talk about food because I’m starving,” the girl moaned dramatically.

“I’m sure your dad will be out soon to take you back to your house for some dinner.”

“It’s not my house,” she muttered.

“It is so,” Ty argued. “Dad said so. We live with him now.”

“Not for long. Grandma Trixie says she’s going to fight for custody so we can come live with her in California, just as soon as she finds us all a good place to stay.”

Why would a grandparent think she could possibly win a custody fight against a parent? What was the background? Where was their mother, first of all, and why hadn’t they been living with their father before now?

Cole’s life seemed a mad tangle of complications.

“I don’t want to live with Grandma Trixie. I like living with Dad,” Ty said, his voice small. “We have our own rooms now, which we never had before, and a yard to play in and Dad says I can even get a horse of my own after I learn how to ride better.”

“Who wants a stupid horse?” Jazmyn tossed her brother a disgusted look. “With Grandma Trixie in California, we could go to the beach every day, even in the winter, and maybe even see movie stars.”

“I’d rather have a horse and live with Dad,” Ty muttered. Devin had the feeling this wasn’t the first time the two of them had engaged in this particular argument. To keep the peace, she opted for distraction.

“Let’s go see if we can find some crackers and juice. Ty, why don’t you give me a hand?”

The agreeable boy slid off his chair and followed her to the reception desk. “Hey, Brittney. My man Ty here is hungry and so is his sister. Any chance we could grab a few of those cracker packs and maybe some cookies from the food room?”

“Sure, Dr. Shaw.” The young receptionist hopped up. “I should have thought of that. What a dope I can be. I’m sorry. Just give me a sec.”

She smiled. “Thanks.”

The receptionist hurried away. While she was gone, Ty became interested in the small Christmas tree on the desk, made entirely of inflated nonlatex gloves cascading down with an elastic bandage garland.

“Are those all balloons? Did somebody have to blow them all up?”

“I would guess so,” she answered.

“I bet that took forever.”

“It’s not that tough. Here, I’ll show you.” She grabbed a glove from the box tacked to the wall and quickly showed him how to bunch the end together and blow it up, then tie the end like a balloon. “And now look.” She grabbed a Sharpie from the canister on the reception desk and doodled a face on it, with the thumb sticking out like a long nose, much to the boy’s delight.

She might not be able to knit, but who said she wasn’t crafty?

She had learned the fine art of glove creature creation during her first surgery, when she’d ended up staying ten days because of an infection. In the children’s hospital in Boise, she had met Lilah, another teenage girl with cancer. It was Lilah, she remembered, who had shown her the trick of creating creatures from surgical gloves. They used to make them for the younger kids receiving treatment.

Lilah had lost her battle just a few months later.

Devin thought a silent prayer for her friend and for the others she had said goodbye to along her cancer journey.

“Can you make one for Jazmyn?” Ty asked.

“You bet.”

In a minute, she had another inflated glove. This face she drew with long eyelashes and puckered lips. Ty quickly took it over to his sister just as the receptionist came out with a handful of treats.

The kids were eating crackers and cheese with enthusiasm—pausing every few moments to bop each other on the head with their inflated glove creatures—when their father walked back into the waiting room.

She suddenly felt as if all the air had been sucked from the room, which she was fully aware was a completely ridiculous reaction to a gorgeous man.

“Hey, kids.”

“Where’s Aunt Tricia?”

Cole glanced at Devin, looking rather endearingly uncertain, as if he wasn’t quite sure what to tell his kids. “She’s sticking around here for the night. Dr. Shaw wants to keep an eye on her and the babies a little longer.”

“Who’s going to fix us breakfast and get us on the bus?” Ty demanded. “We don’t even have Mrs. Lynn to help us anymore.”

“I can do that just as well as Tricia or Mrs. Lynn.”

“Aunt Tricia said you can’t even make toast without burning it,” Jazmyn informed him.

“Aunt Tricia talks too much,” he muttered. “Between you and me, we ought to be able to handle things for a few days, don’t you think?”

“I guess,” she said doubtfully.

“Get your coats and gather up your things so we can take off,” he ordered. “We need to get Aunt Tricia’s bag out of the car, then grab some dinner so I can get you two to bed.”