Читать книгу The Family They Chose / Private Partners: The Family They Chose / Private Partners - GINA WILKINS - Страница 13

Dressed in a cobalt-blue suit and pearls, Olivia drove across the Salt-and-Pepper Bridge, which stretched over the Charles River, connecting Boston with Cambridge.

The formal name of the bridge was actually the Longfellow, but locals had dubbed it “Salt-and-Pepper” because the structure’s central towers resembled salt-and-pepper shakers.

The Children’s Home was located just across the river, not too far from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. Olivia had served on the Children’s Home board since the year she and Jamison had married. Before she’d been appointed to the Children’s Home board of directors, she’d volunteered there when she was in college and knew it was such a worthy organization that it deserved as much support as it could get.

In the nearly ten years that she’d been involved, Olivia had been instrumental in helping Pam Wilson, the executive director of The Children’s Home, write grants, raise funds and secure other means of political and community support for the Home.

Other times, she filled in where they needed her. Whether it was answering the phone, taking the kids shopping for school supplies, or rolling up her sleeves and scrubbing toilets when the janitorial service didn’t show, she did what she could. Her favorite task was baking dozens of delicious cookies for the kids to take to school for birthday celebrations or bake sales, or sometimes the cookies were simply for them to enjoy as a special treat.

Olivia’s goal as president of the board was to give the children—many of whom were here because of abuse, neglect or tragedy—as good a childhood as possible. Sometimes that meant singing songs and reading stories. Other times it meant getting her hands dirty. But she was game for whatever the kids needed, because she was passionate about the Children’s Home and the kids they served.

It was never easy, though, when a new resident arrived. Usually the child was scared and skittish, oftentimes suffering emotional trauma after being displaced. Today, Pam needed all hands on deck because not one, but two little boys were arriving.

Danny and Kevin Kelso had lost both of their parents in a nightmarish accident on the day after Christmas. The parents were coming home from a party and were hit head-on by a drunk driver. The boys had been home asleep in their beds, in the care of a babysitter.

Since the boys had no living relatives, Boston’s Department of Children and Families had prevailed upon Pam to take the boys so that they could stay together. The home really didn’t have room, but when Pam called Olivia for special dispensation, Olivia had agreed that the boys should stay together at all costs—even if she had to bring them to her house until the Home could make a place for them.

Keeping them together seemed extra important since three-year-old Danny had recently been diagnosed with autism.

Little had she known when she’d decided to distract herself with baking bread and cookies, that the home would be in need of fare to welcome the new charges.

There was nothing like good, homemade sugar and chocolate chunk cookies to make a child feel welcome.

Olivia had promised Pam that she’d be there to help, because even under the best circumstances, welcoming a new resident wasn’t easy. Given the younger Kelso boy’s situation, today was sure to be doubly challenging.

Shortly after nine o’clock, Olivia arrived at the Georgian-style mansion that housed the Children’s Home. The old home once belonged to the charity’s founder, who left it to the organization in trust to be used for kids left homeless or orphaned by abuse, neglect or tragedy. Olivia parked around back by the carriage house, which served as the nonprofit’s offices, and let herself in the kitchen door. She set the bread and cookies on the counter and went in search of Pam, whom she found in the great room.

“Olivia, thank you so much for coming in today,” Pam said. “It seems like a lot to ask during the holidays.”

Olivia shook her head. “I’m happy to do it. Besides, Jamison had to go back to D.C. and he won’t be back until New Year’s Eve.”

“Big plans?” Pam asked.

Olivia blushed. “We’re staying in and having a nice romantic evening—alone, for a change.”

Over the years, Pam had become a friend—and someone to whom in the beginning, Olivia had confided in when she and Jamison had decided to start trying to get pregnant. But after it became clear that pregnancy wouldn’t come easily—and then with the ensuing bumps in their marriage—Olivia had become a bit more guarded.

“Really?” Pam arched a brow, her blue eyes shining. “Anything you’d care to share?”

For a moment, Olivia was tempted to tell her everything—well, almost everything—not about Derek’s bizarre suggestion that Olivia try to pass off another woman’s child as her own. Because essentially that’s what it would amount to if she allowed Chance to implant another woman’s egg in her body.

The thought made her shudder, and that brought her to her senses. Despite how good it would feel to confide in a friend right now, until she heard the New Year’s Eve prognosis, she needed to keep everything to herself.

“Oh, nothing exciting, but you know I’ll tell you as soon as there’s news.”

Just then the door opened and two of the saddest little boys Olivia had ever seen walked in hand in hand. Both had mops of glossy dark hair and large, haunted brown eyes.

The larger of the two stood slightly in front of his younger brother, in a protective stance.

Karen Cunningham from DCF stood behind them. “Good morning, I have a very special delivery for you. This is Kevin.” She gestured to the older brother. “And this little guy is Danny.”

“Hello, boys. I’m Pam, and this is Mrs. Mallory. We want you to know you are very welcome here.”

The boys gaped at her but remained silent.

“You make yourselves right at home,” Pam said. “Mrs. Mallory is here for you while Mrs. Cunningham and I go take care of some paperwork.”

Olivia knelt in front of the boys.

“Hi, guys. Now, tell me again, which one of you is Kevin and which one is Danny?”

“I’m Kevin,” said the older brother. “I’m seven years old.”

Olivia offered her hand to the boy. “Hi, Kevin. You can call me Olivia, if you’d like.”

Kevin shook her hand like a little man, much too grown up for his age.

“He’s Danny, he doesn’t talk because he’s special.”

“Hi, Danny.” She offered her hand to the smaller boy just as she’d done for the older brother, but he didn’t take it. Instead, he started rocking back and forth, paying no attention to Olivia.

“He’s sad because our mommy and daddy got killed in a real bad car wreck.”

Kevin’s lower lip quivered and for a moment Olivia thought he might cry. She was surprised when he didn’t.

She took his hand in hers again. “Kevin, it’s okay to cry. I know you must be very sad, too. Just like Danny is.”

Still holding Olivia’s hand, Kevin focused on a spot somewhere over her shoulder and didn’t let down his guard.

Olivia squeezed his hand. “Well, I want you to know I think you’re very brave, but even the bravest men in the world cry sometimes. And that’s okay.”

Suddenly, Danny stepped forward, reached and touched Olivia’s pearl necklace.

“Duck!” said Danny.

Kevin grabbed his brother’s hand and held it.

“Don’t touch, Danny.”

“Duck!” Danny repeated.

Olivia gazed down into his little upturned face and smiled. She pointed at her necklace. “These are pearls, Danny.”

Kevin shook his head. “It doesn’t matter how many times you tell him. He’s still going to call it a duck, because that’s what he thinks it is. I told you, he’s special and he doesn’t know any better.”

Olivia nodded and gave Kevin a conspiratorial wink. “That’s good to know. If he wants to call it a duck, then this can be my … duck. Say, Kevin, do you and Danny like cookies? I just made some. They’re in the kitchen. Why don’t we go get some?”

Kevin’s face shuttered again.

“My mommy doesn’t let us eat cookies between meals.”

His little bottom lip trembled again, but he raised his chin a notch and refocused on his spot over Olivia’s shoulder.

Her heart was breaking for these two sweet boys. She was about to tell Kevin that she was sure his mother wouldn’t mind just this once, and praise him for following her rules, when Danny’s hand snaked out again and grabbed a hold of Olivia’s necklace.

“Duck!” he yelled, and gave them a firm yank.

His grasp was far stronger than she might have imagined because the necklace broke. If not for the individual knots between each pearl, the necklace might have scattered all over the floor. Instead, the broken strand held together in a limp line trailing down Danny’s arm.

“Danny! No!” reprimanded Kevin.

He turned to Olivia. “I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry. Please don’t be mad at him. Please—”

With that, his voice broke and he dissolved into a heap of full-body sobs.

Reflexively, Olivia gathered him in her arms and held him while he cried on the shoulder of her blue suit.

Rubbing his back, she said, “I’m not mad. It was just a silly old duck anyway. I can get it fixed later.”

Pam and Karen rushed in to see what all the commotion was about, but Olivia waved them away. She was no expert, but instincts told her that now that Kevin was finally letting down his guard, now that he was finally allowing himself to feel his loss, the last thing he needed was an audience gawking at him.

As he continued to sob on her shoulder, she mouthed to them, It’s okay. He’ll be fine. Hesitant, they retreated to Pam’s office, throwing concerned glances Olivia’s way as she rubbed the boy’s back in slow, circular motions.

Of all people, she understood the loss he was grappling with—only in reverse. She’d had a hard time processing the sense of loss she felt, not being able to get pregnant. The loss—or empty spot—in her life that Jamison’s and her child was supposed to occupy. It felt like a gaping hole in the place where her heart beat. Some days she wanted to sob on someone’s shoulder, too, but instead, like Kevin, she’d chosen the stoic path.

She pulled the weeping boy closer. Holding him, for the first time ever, she felt that gaping hole begin to close.

“Duck?” Danny murmured.

“Duck,” she whispered, smiling at him through her own unshed tears.

Once the boys were settled in the dining room at the table enjoying milk and cookies with the other Children’s Home residents, Olivia and Pam retreated into Pam’s office.

Pam slid in behind her desk and Olivia claimed the chair facing it.

“Here’s the report from Danny’s doctor.” She nudged a slim stack of papers across her desk toward Olivia. “Karen filled me in on Danny’s condition. Apparently, he was recently diagnosed with Autism Spectrum Disorder, and he had just started speech and behavior therapy before the holidays.”

Olivia skimmed the report. “So, he’s not enrolled in school yet?”

Pam shook her head. “He just turned three in November and I believe they were waiting until after the first of the year to enroll him in a public school exceptional educational program. But with all that’s happened, we’re going to have to talk to his doctor and see what he suggests is the best course of action. The little guy has had so much to digest, losing his parents and all, that I’m not certain starting him in a new program right away will be the best thing.”

The fifteen other kids who lived at the Children’s Home were all in school. That meant Danny would need someone to look after him during the day. Pam would have to bring in one of the part-time employees to help out. It would further tax the organization’s already stretched budget.

“I can come in a couple of days a week to help out,” Olivia offered. She wished she could offer more—for one quick, insane moment, she was about ready to offer for Danny and Kevin to come live with her. But it was an irrational thought. Completely emotional and off the cuff. With her steady lineup of doctor’s appointments, she’d be lucky to be able to give Pam two solid days of help per week.

Her heart was breaking for the boys. She wanted to ease their grief and give them … a home. But what would happen once her baby arrived? Reflexively, she slid a hand over her stomach.

She couldn’t adopt them. No, it was best to let the boys get settled into their new home. That was the right thing to do.

Even so, why did leaving them here feel completely wrong?