This Very Moment (18 page)

“Get your jacket or a sweatshirt,” she called after him. “It’s a little cold out here.”

He disappeared into the tiny, rundown house. Kylee zipped up her own jacket, thinking of Minnesota where she had played in snow drifts taller than her father.

“What that boy needs is a mother,” Mr. Rivers said quietly. “I wouldn’t give him up, not for anything, but I . . .” He trailed off, his head shaking slightly with age. “I wish he had more. I wish I could give him more.”

Kylee put her arm on his shoulder. “You love him a great deal, and love like that can make up for everything else.”

There was a heavy silence as he fought to keep his emotions under control. “Thank you for saying that. And thank you for helping Jeff. It means more to me than—” He broke off and wiped at his eyes with thick weathered fingers.

She was relieved when a vehicle drove up behind her. Relieved because she didn’t have the money yet to help Jeffery, and she felt Mr. Rivers’ gratitude was premature. What if in the end she couldn’t help Jeffery?

Stop it,
she told herself.
Where is your confidence? You will find the money even if you have to knock on every door in this valley. You’ll do it on your knees, if you have to.

Her thoughts broke off as she saw Bill spring out of a dark green Blazer. The sight of his handsome face was so comforting that for a moment she wanted to throw her arms about him.

Of course, she didn’t. Why open herself to further rejection?

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“I need to talk with you.”

“How’d you find me?”

“I went to the Craniofacial Center. They said you were . . . does it matter?” He looked pointedly at Mr. Rivers. “Can we talk?”

“I guess I could help Jeffery find the ball.” Mr. Rivers glanced back and forth between them with obvious relish.

Kylee laughed at his expression. “Yes, please do that.”

When he had left, Bill reached for her hand. She let him take it but kept her muscles limp and unresponsive. She felt emotionally exhausted and wondered if she could take any more surprises.

“You were right, Kylee,” Bill told her. “About all of it. I know I should help, but I . . .”

Kylee stared.

“I feel bad for leaving you that day.” He squeezed her hand. “I’m not what you want me to be, but I’m willing to work on it. Your . . . uh, friendship means a lot to me.”

Kylee could tell the words cost him. “What do you mean, ‘work on it’?” she asked, fighting to suppress the budding hope in her chest.

Agony and indecision radiated from his face. “I want to be here for you. I love spending time with you. I just don’t know that I . . .” He stopped.

He still wasn’t saying what Kylee wanted hear, but it was enough at that moment. “Okay,” she said. “Let’s go back to how we were before.” That had been better than nothing.

He smiled, though he didn’t look completely pleased. What did he want anyway? Maybe he didn’t know himself. She had the urge to move into his arms and kiss him, but maybe it was best not to drag up that issue again.

The 60 Minutes van pulled up behind Bill’s Blazer. “Oh, good,” Kylee said. “They’re here.”

“For what?”

“To film Jeffery. He’s the next little boy I’m going to help.” As people piled from the van, she began introducing Bill, who nodded politely.

“Yeah, we met at the Center,” Deedra said. “When he came looking for you.”

“I found it! I found it!” Jeffery burst out of the house, wearing a worn sweatshirt and carrying a ball in a large battered baseball glove. His lopsided half-smile faded as he saw all the new people.

“We were going to play ball,” Kylee explained.

“Good idea,” Deedra said, straightening her jacket. “We’ll film you. It’ll make a great shot. Then we’ll go inside and talk.” She glanced at the small house with a frown. “I hope our equipment fits. Well, we’ll make it work. We’ve done it before.” She smiled at Jeffrey. “Why don’t you warm up a bit, and in a minute we’ll film you. I bet you can throw that ball really far.”

To her surprise, Deedra’s face showed a compassion Kylee had not suspected.
I was wrong about her,
she thought.
Deedra does care.
Maybe that’s why she’s so willing to help. Perhaps her preoccupation with her job is a pretence.

As Deedra strode off purposefully to speak with her crew, Kylee turned to introduce Jeffery to Bill. “This is—is . . .” Her words stumbled as she saw how pale and drawn Bill had become. “Are you okay, Bill? You look like you need to sit down. Bill, what’s wrong?”

Bill said nothing. He didn’t look her way but stood motionless, staring at Jeffery for a long silent minute. Jeffery shifted uncomfortably and glanced around, apparently searching for something. “Gran’pa?” he asked in a frightened voice.

 Kylee placed a steadying hand on his shoulder. “It’s all right, Jeffery. I think Dr. Dubrey isn’t feeling well. Bill, would you like me to take you to your doctor or to the hospital? You’re scaring me.”

* * * * *

Bill heard Kylee talking, but didn’t understand what she said. He couldn’t take his eyes from Jeffery. “He was burned,” he said with difficulty. Burned like Nicole had been burned.

“He can be helped.” Kylee met his gaze. Was it just him or did her eyes seem pleading?

He looked away from her and back at Jeffery, who shifted nervously.

Bill had come to find Kylee to ask her to forgive him, and maybe even to offer to help her with Anna, if that was the only way she would have him. But not this burned child. Never. The only thing he saw when he looked at this boy was the train. He could hear the terrible screams.

There was nothing he could do. Why had he even come? Bill wished the earth would open and swallow him, putting an end to his misery.

Kylee didn’t back down. “You couldn’t help Nicole, but Jeffery here, he needs you.”

How had she guessed?

Bill swallowed slowly, feeling faint, unable to do anything but stare at Jeffery and the superimposed image of Nicole. There was nowhere to run or hide, which was just as well since his legs couldn’t move.

A brief cry came from the back of Jeffery’s throat, a feral sound of fear and anguish. All at once Bill’s vision cleared and he saw a helpless child cringing under his gaze, one thin hand held against his scarred cheek as though trying to hide his deformity.

He’s only a little boy.

Compassion vied with the hurt inside Bill’s heart. He fought to stem his torment so that he could do something—anything—to help Jeffery. It wasn’t the child’s fault he’d been burned, nor that his appearance brought such painful memories. Bill swallowed twice more, feeling the dryness more acutely in his throat.

Ashes.

Say something,
he told himself. His heart pounded mercilessly.

He opened his mouth and was almost surprised when words actually emerged. “Hi, Jeffery. I’m Dr. Dubrey.” Unsteadily, he offered his hand to the child. “I’m sorry if I startled you. You reminded me of someone I once knew. I miss her a lot.”

Jeffery relaxed slightly, and Bill’s racing heart began to ease. He studied Jeffery’s face, seeing that there was much he could do for the boy. His fingers tingled.

Maybe I can do this.
Taking a deep breath, he said, “I’m hoping to be your doctor, if that’s okay with you.”
There, that wasn’t so hard.
Bill blinked furiously to stop the tears welling in his eyes.

Jeffery smiled gratefully, though he still appeared hesitant and uncertain. Kylee made a glad noise, but Bill didn’t dare look at her. His emotions were too close to the surface. He pointed to the tattered mitt dangling from the boy’s hand. “Nice glove there. Was that your Grandpa’s?”

Jeffery nodded, the scarred face turning bleak. “And my dad’s when he was boy. It’s mine now. It only got burned a little.” He showed Bill where a dark spot marred the tan leather.

“I bet it still catches good,” Bill said, holding his hand out for the ball. “Let’s try it.” Jeffery took off into the deserted street, raising his gloved hand to catch Bill’s throw.

* * * * *

They finished at the Rivers’ and drove their separate cars to McDonald’s for a late lunch. Bill felt nervous, but there was no place he would rather be at that moment than with Kylee.

“I thought for a moment you were going to faint.” Her words were light, but there was an underlying seriousness.

He put a french fry into his mouth, a wry smile on his lips. “I almost did. You know those comics where the person gets hit in the head and sees stars? Well, that was me, standing there with all the stars swirling around my head.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” He laughed, and Kylee laughed with him.

After a while Kylee’s face returned to seriousness. “So what happened back there?”

 “A long time ago I wanted to help children like Anna and Jeffery, but then Nicole . . .” He shook his head, not wanting to explain the feelings that were still so raw. “Never mind, I’d rather not talk about that right now. What’s important is that I can do some of the surgeries, and I won’t charge a thing, except where other specialists are involved. Maybe I can get them to donate time as well, and maybe some of the supply companies would be willing to pitch in.”

“Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me.” Bill knew he was only doing what he should have volunteered to do in the first place.

“So when do we do the surgery?” she asked between sips of her drink. “How much money will we need to begin with Jeffery?”

“I can cover the expenses this time.”

She frowned. “If you are in this for the long haul—as I hope you are—then we need to pay as we go. If you foot the bill for the other doctors and hospital fees involved, you’ll soon go bankrupt—especially if you cut down on your regular practice.”

“Agreed, but I can cover Jeffery’s case. He’ll need a hearing and breathing specialist, but several of the doctors in the Plaza owe me favors. I did free cosmetic surgery years back for some of their wives. There’s a burn department too, and one of the new guys is fairly good. I’m sure I could convince him to assist. He’s the sort who would like to be involved. You know, an idealist like you.” He raised his hands hastily. “No offense. When we’re through Jeff may not look completely normal, but he’ll look and feel a lot better than he does now.”

Bill had not helped many burn patients lately, but over the years, he had continued to read and study everything about the subject, as if doing so would somehow alleviate his guilt for not saving Nicole.

Kylee put her hand on his. “I don’t think you can understand how much this means to me.”

“Oh, I think I might.” He watched her take a bite of hamburger.

“What?” she asked, meeting his stare.

I think I love you,
he thought. Aloud he said, “I meant what I said about being sorry for leaving you the other night.”

She swallowed the food in her mouth. “I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have said what I did.”

“Even when you were right?” He knew his voice was slightly bitter. “What must you have thought of me?”