North Country Family. Lois Richer
Читать онлайн книгу.
need some orange juice or something sweet.”
Totally out of his depth, Rick appreciated Cassie’s orders. He carried Bryan inside then propped up the boy’s head as Cassie dribbled some orange juice in his mouth.
“What’s wrong with him?” he asked.
“I’m guessing his blood sugar’s too low.” Concern darkened Cassie’s eyes as she monitored the boy’s pulse and checked his pupils. “Bryan, when did you last test?” she asked loudly when his eyelids fluttered.
“Didn’t.” His head lolled into unconsciousness.
Cassie hissed out a sigh of frustration. She looked at Rick. “Can you go through his suitcase and find a small case? It would have test strips, syringes and a vial in it.”
Rick did as she asked. When he found the container, he unzipped it and held it open in his palm so she could easily get what she needed.
“Thanks.” With precise movements Cassie pricked Bryan’s finger and swiped it over a test strip, which she then stuck into the small monitor. She grimaced at the reading, measured out the correct dose from the vial and injected it into Bryan’s stomach. After a quick glance at Noah who stood watching, she offered him a smile then returned to monitoring her patient.
Rick noted the tender hand Cassie swept across Bryan’s forehead and the kindhearted words she spoke. To anyone watching, Bryan might have been her own child.
“Why didn’t he inject himself?” he asked, keeping his voice hushed.
“The doctor’s report says he’s struggling to accept his illness.” Laurel stood beside Noah, watching.
“A lot of kids do,” Cassie explained. “They think that if they ignore it, it will go away.” She looked at Rick, grim certainty in her eyes. “It won’t go away. Bryan’s got to learn to handle his diabetes or it will kill him.”
“Then we’ll help him do that,” Rick assured her.
Cassie gave him a funny look before she turned her attention to Bryan once more.
“Okay, he’s coming around. Laurel, could you bring a wet cloth? Can you help him sit, Rick?”
“Sure.” He slid his arm around Bryan’s back and eased him upright. “Take it easy, big guy.” When Bryan’s bleary gaze met his, he teased, “Is this any way to begin your first day here? Forgetting to take your medication?”
“I didn’t forget,” Bryan said, slurring his words a bit, but fully aware.
“You must have forgotten,” Rick told him in a serious tone. “Because deliberately not taking it sounds dumb, and I don’t think you’re dumb.” He sounded more confident than he felt, and he prayed that God would use his words to help Bryan. “Diabetes is not a death sentence.”
“It feels like one to me.” Bryan accepted Rick’s hand to pull himself upright. He wavered a bit before plopping on a kitchen chair.
“Diabetes isn’t the end of your life, Bryan.” Rick sat across from him. “In fact, it could be the start of a new life for you, a new beginning here at Lives Under Construction.”
Bryan glanced at Laurel and Cassie as if to ask if Rick was serious. But after a moment his gaze returned to Rick, who caught a flicker of curiosity under the boy’s tough attitude.
“New start?” the boy demanded. “How?”
“Well, think about it. Nobody here knows you or what you did before you came here. You’ve got a chance to begin a new year with a clean slate.” One glance at Cassie’s serious face told Rick he had to make his words count. “Managing your diabetes can be your first step to making your future into whatever you want.”
“You make it sound easy,” Bryan muttered.
“Oh, no, I didn’t say that. But nobody but you can decide your future, Bryan.” Rick paused to let that sink in. “You have to choose if you’ll waste the opportunity you’ve been given at a new life, or accept the challenge and use this time to figure out how to build yourself a better world.”
Bryan snorted. “I never heard anyone claim going to juvie was getting a break.”
“Well, then, let me be the first to offer you a new perspective. Besides, this is not juvenile detention. It’s where lives are under construction, on the way to being changed.” Rick held his breath, waiting for the boy to decide.
Bryan studied him for a long time, his eyes searching. Rick could tell that he was at least thinking about what he’d heard.
“You should rest for a while, Bryan,” Cassie said.
“Yeah. I feel tired. The plane was bumpy. The guy guarding me got sick.” He pushed to his feet and followed Laurel to the room he’d been assigned.
Rick rubbed a hand across his face, silently praising God for His help.
“How did you know to do that?”
Rick blinked. Cassie stood in front of him, a puzzled expression on her face. “Do what?”
“Talk to him like that, get him to face his issues and see them from a new perspective.” She frowned. “You convinced Bryan he could start over. I think maybe you got through to him. How?”
Shifting under her intense stare, Rick knew there was more to her question than simple curiosity. He glanced around, saw Noah seated in a corner with the luggage, earbuds back in place.
“I prayed for the right words, Cassie. If they hit home it was because God used them, as He used you,” he added.
“Me?” she said, almost rearing back in surprise.
“You treated Bryan as if he were Noah,” he said softly. “You cared for him with love and tenderness. He felt that. All I did was try to help him see that not everything in his life is bad. There is good in the world if he’ll only drop his defenses and accept it.”
“But the words you used—” Her voice trailed away.
“Lives Under Construction is a new beginning for Bryan,” Rick reminded her. “He’s away from whatever circumstances got him into this situation. He can start over, if he wants to. It’s the same for you and Noah, isn’t it? It doesn’t really matter what brought you here. What matters is what you do with this opportunity.”
She studied him until they heard the sound of footsteps in the hall.
“Rick, you’re home,” a warm voice said. A slim, obviously pregnant woman embraced him, then turned to Cassie. “I’m Sara Loness,” she said stretching out a hand. “I’m the head cook. Welcome to Lives.”
“Thank you. I’m Cassie Crockett.” Cassie shook Sara’s hand then nudged Noah who finally rose. “This is my son, Noah.”
After Sara greeted Noah, Rick explained what had just happened.
“Poor Bryan. I’ll make sure supper doesn’t have a lot of sugar,” Sara assured him.
“And you should probably keep those away from him,” Rick said, eyeing the platter of cinnamon buns on the counter. “But not from me.”
“Why is it some people can eat whatever they want and never gain an ounce?” Sara smiled at Cassie. “I made extras,” she said to Rick as she set plates and forks on the table.
“Thanks.” Rick nudged Noah to the table then held Cassie’s chair. Rick took note of the fact that Cassie startled a bit when his hand accidentally brushed her shoulder.
“I thought I saw a skating rink outside,” Cassie said, her voice betraying nothing.
“Sara’s husband, Kyle, made it. He’s just coming in.” Rick waited until his friend entered the kitchen. Then he introduced Cassie and her son. “Kyle’s the activities director at Lives. He and I are teaching