Twenty Wishes (Blossom Street #5)(40)

“Oh.”

“There’s no one else.”

“Perhaps her mother’s clean and sober now.” Anne Marie hated to sound desperate, but the options were dwindling fast.

“She’s not. Last year she rescinded all rights as Ellen’s mother.”

“Oh.” Anne Marie could feel what was coming. Dolores would ask her to watch Ellen while she was in the hospital. A rush of excuses, a dozen valid reasons she couldn’t do it, were on the tip of her tongue. She couldn’t make herself say them.

“That child is the only good thing I have in my life,” Dolores whispered brokenly. “My daughters have both chosen paths that led to spiritual and emotional ruin. I pray for them every day.”

“I’m sure you do, but—”

“I don’t understand where I went wrong. Their father left us twenty years ago, and I raised them alone. I tried to show them the right way…”

Anne Marie murmured a few comforting words, although she knew there was no comfort to be had.

“I’ve been a proud woman all my life,” Dolores continued. “I’ve never asked the government for help, even when I was entitled to.”

With her free hand Anne Marie gripped the steel bar along the side of the bed.

“I’m asking for your help now.”

Anne Marie swallowed. “But…I’m a stranger.”

“Ellen talks about you constantly. You and Baxter.” The faint hint of a smile came to her then.

Anne Marie was surprised she got a mention. She’d assumed the real attraction had been the dog. “But…I’m just her Lunch Buddy,” she murmured.

“You’re much more than that,” Dolores told her. “Please take my precious Ellen and look after her for me.”

“I…” Anne Marie didn’t know what to say. Her place wasn’t set up to take care of a child. She didn’t even have a real bed for Ellen. After living alone all these months—more than a year now—she wasn’t sure how she’d adjust to living with someone else. With a child.

At her obvious reluctance, Dolores said, “The doctor said once I have the surgery I should be good as new.”

“You’ll need recuperation time.” Mentally Anne Marie tried to calculate how long that might be. A week? Two? Maybe a month. She couldn’t possibly deal with this awkward situation for a whole month.

“Yes, I’ll need time to heal,” Dolores agreed, “but it’ll go much faster if I know Ellen is well taken care of.” She gazed up at Anne Marie with wide, imploring eyes. When Anne Marie didn’t immediately respond, Dolores added, “Please. I’m asking you from my heart. I’m begging you not to let them take my granddaughter away from me.”

Anne Marie couldn’t refuse. “All right,” she said, hoping she didn’t sound begrudging—or afraid.

Dolores released a huge sigh. “Thank you, Lord.” She pointed to the side table next to her bed. “I’ve written out a statement that gives you permission to see to any medical needs Ellen might have. I also wrote a statement authorizing you to keep Ellen while I’m in the hospital.”

An orderly stepped into the room. “Ready, Mrs. Falk?” he asked far too cheerfully.

“Where are you taking her?” Anne Marie asked.

The young man raised his eyebrows. “Surgery.”

“So soon?”

“I’ll be fine,” Dolores said. “Absolutely fine.”

Anne Marie felt dreadful; she should’ve been the one consoling the other woman.

“I’ll take care of Ellen,” she promised with a sense of desperation. “Just get well.”

The young man directed Anne Marie to the nurses’ station, where she was given a phone number to check on Dolores’s progress after the surgery. Anne Marie held on to that piece of paper as if it were a winning lottery ticket. “She’ll be okay, won’t she?” she asked the male nurse.

The burly man sent her a stoic look. “We’re going to do everything we can to make sure she’s home again as soon as possible.”

That was supposed to reassure her? “Thank you,” she said lamely. “I’ll phone later this afternoon.”

“I’ll have an update for you then. Ask for Dana.”

“I will. Thank you.” She put the phone number, plus the signed papers Dolores had mentioned, in her purse and left the hospital.

By the time she got to her car, Anne Marie’s stomach was so tense she actually felt nauseous. Yesterday afternoon she’d been working out at Go Figure, the women’s gym on Blossom Street, with Barbie Foster. Less than a day later, she was responsible for the care and well-being of an eight-year-old child.

At the bookstore, Anne Marie turned over the Open sign and counted out cash for the register. She had a constant flow of customers until about one o’clock, when she called the school and spoke to Helen Mayer.

“What did you find out?”

“Ellen’s grandmother had heart surgery this morning.”

“How’s she doing?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t spoken to anyone at the hospital yet. I wanted to update you, though—Ellen will be staying with me while her grandmother recuperates.”