Ellie grabbed hold of the IV cart and went to work.
* * *
Babysittingtoddlers was not for the weak.
Jesse discovered this during the ten minutes of constant wailing that had followed Ellie’s leaving the house. Eventually he—with a little help fromSesame Street—managed to soothe Daisy and Daniel. Four hours had gone by, and so far, no one had been killed or injured. He considered that success.
But the evening wasn’t over yet.
“Put on.” Daisy held up a little plastic tiara with pink sparkles.
“You want me to put that on you? Are you a princess?” He started to put it on her little head, but she drew back.
She pointed to him. “Put onyou.”
She wanted him to put it on himself?
Uh. Really? Okay. He did as she asked. “Do I look pretty?”
She giggled.
Her laughter struck him right in the chest, melted his heart. The sound was pure, bright, innocent.
Daniel meanwhile was busy piling blocks in the back of a plastic dump truck and dumping them out again. That looked fairly straightforward, so Jesse helped, watching Daisy while she put every single stuffed animal she and her brother owned down for a nap on Daniel’s blanket. Yeah, that wasn’t going to end well.
Jesse’s phone buzzed. He fished it out of his pocket to find a number he didn’t recognize. “Moretti.”
“This is Troy Rouse, Ellie’s father. She gave me your number.”
“Hey, doc.” Jesse got to his feet.
“I’m sure you probably heard this, but the canyon is closed.”
“No, I hadn’t heard. It must’ve been a terrible accident.”
“A drunk driver T-boned a bus full of school kids, causing other cars to hit the bus. They said the canyon is going to be closed for another hour or two at least while they finish the investigation and clean up. Meanwhile, we’re stuck down in Boulder. How are my grandkids?”
“They’re doing fine, sir.”
“Good. I wish I were up there. Those kids on the bus—a lot of them are patients of mine. I wish I were at the hospital right now, helping out the way Ellie is.”
“Are things going well there?”
“She says it was pretty rough going for a while. They lost one. That always shakes a person up.”
Screams. Cold water. A pale, terrified face. Little hands reaching.
Jesse pushed the memory aside. “I’m really sorry to hear that.”
“We’ll let you know when the road opens. We’re sitting in a parking lot at Sixth and Canyon, so we’ll know as soon as traffic starts moving again.”
“Don’t worry about us. We’re good.” Jesse ended the call, a hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach.
The kids played in their playroom for a while longer. When that deteriorated into fighting—Daniel did not feel like sharing his blanket with the stuffed animals—Jesse managed to interest them inThomas the Tank Engine. And then, like magic, they both fell asleep.
They were still asleep when Ellie pulled into the driveway a half hour later.
Thank God!