A Family for the Children's Doctor. Dianne Drake
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with Sylvie, and any travel across the border came only with court approval, which couldn’t happen in two days, as that was all the notice Adrian had received for this emergency trip to Costa Rica.
So Sylvie, who never saw Sean unless it benefitted her in some way, had won again and Adrian and Sean were separated now because of her. Not that she cared. But on the bright side, Sean was having the time of his life with his grandmother, safe and sound, and there was nothing Sylvie could do to ruin that.
Damn that Sylvie, anyway. Why did she always find a way to mess up their lives?
“The pilot has instructed the passengers to buckle up for the final approach,” the flight attendant said, shaking Adrian out of his thoughts. He opened his eyes to find her bending over him, her big brown eyes fixed on his face, her smile at him so bright it nearly blinded him. She was so close he could smell the faint trace of her flowery perfume in his nostrils. She was a good-looking woman, not that it mattered. Once upon a time he might have shown some interest in the sexuality she was obviously putting on display for him. But not any more. Not for a very long time. Seven years, to be exact. Oh, he’d enjoyed occasional dates, but nothing more than once or twice as his spare time belonged to his son. “He says the landing could be a little rough.” She deliberately picked up the seat belt that was dangling over the edge of his seat and dropped it into his lap. “Wouldn’t want you getting hurt.”
Rough landing, rough heart. Nothing a seat belt could take care of. “Thank you,” he said. “I appreciate the warning,” he added quickly, still forcing himself to sound nicer than he felt.
“We aim to please,” she replied, with a genuinely kind smile and eyes that widened in a bit of hope. He recognized the look. He’d seen it before, not that it ever did any good when it was directed at him.
Encouraged by this, the flight attendant lingered over him a little longer than she should have, giving him ample opportunity to whisper something to her. An invitation to dinner, an invitation to bed… But when he didn’t, she straightened back up, blushing from the conspicuous rejection, and scurried away to hide in the service cubby where drinks and snacks were prepared.
You could have had her, the blue-haired, tattooed young man sitting across the aisle from Adrian said. Actually, he didn’t say the words aloud, but the look on the kid’s face spoke volumes. And the kid was right. He probably could have had her. Or any number of women he’d encountered over the past few years. But there wasn’t extra time in his life, and given his choice between spending time with them and being with Sean…well, there was no contest.
Hard choice sometimes. But a good one always. He didn’t regret it.
On principle, he didn’t regret his choice to come to Costa Rica either, and he wasn’t about to bow out of his responsibility. He wanted to do this, actually—to work with the children. Especially since he’d turned his anesthesiology practice into pediatric anesthesiology, but now that he was on his way, and missing his son like he was, he was having second thoughts.
Adrian smiled. It was crazy, worrying about Sean, who was having the time of his life. That’s what Adrian had to remember. And it did comfort him some when he did, even though a little residual wistfulness for something more in his life did flash by. A relationship? A wife? He didn’t rule them out for his future, but after his first time through with Sylvie, he didn’t rule them in either. Too many complications, he thought as he turned to stare out the window while they started to descend.
If there was one thing he and Sean didn’t need, it was any more complications. Over the years, that had become a mantra of sorts.
Below, as the plane swept ever closer to the ground, he saw a banana plantation and all he could think of was how much Sean loved bananas. Of course, Sean’s granny would give him bananas. Knowing that, however, didn’t make easier the anguish of missing his son, or the emptiness he was feeling.
“But I don’t want to read another book!” Isabella Bonaventura was being stubborn just now. Caprice knew it, and indulged it, as her daughter jerked her hand away from her mother’s and plopped down in a black fake leather chair, her back to the windows overlooking the runway. “And I don’t want to draw pictures or write another story.” She folded her arms irritably across her chest and pulled her face into an angry frown, huffing out a melodramatic sigh. “I’m bored. I want to go back to the hospital.”
The hospital, meaning home. They were staying in one of the visitors’ suites at the Golfo Dulce Hospital just outside Golfito—a strikingly beautiful area with modern amenities. Many children were coming in which apparently kept Isabella better occupied than she was doing today. Poor child was bored out of her mind, waiting, and Caprice couldn’t blame her. So was she! “We’ll go as soon as he gets here,” Caprice replied for the tenth time in twenty minutes.
“How much longer will th-that be?” Isabella shifted in her seat to look out to the runway. “I don’t see any planes landing.”
Caprice glanced at her watch. The plane was already over thirty minutes late, which, loosely translated into kiddie hours, was about a lifetime. Or so it seemed, anyway, to both child and mother. “Should be any minute,” she said, keeping her fingers crossed that would be the case.
Any number of the Operation Smiling Faces crew had volunteered to watch Isabella. So had Josefina, Isabella’s Costa Rican caregiver. Caprice had refused the offers, though, and now she was beginning to think she should have taken somebody up on one of them. But she spent so much time away from her daughter as it was, she simply didn’t want to be separated from her. Of course, Isabella had an opinion in the matter, too, and hers was not anything like Caprice’s.
But in a sense Isabella’s mood was to be expected. Yesterday, her eighth birthday, hadn’t been a good day either. Caprice knew these few days were going to be rough. Birthday time and holidays were always when Isabella’s father forgot her. Which he always did.
“Can I get something to d-drink?”
“You just finished a guava juice,” Caprice said, her patience stretching out to a most tenuous thread.
Isabella regarded the empty bottle, made an annoyed face, then looked back at her mother. “I wanted fresco de maracuyá,” she said, forming the words with deliberate care.
Passionfruit. A local favorite, and right about now that sounded good to Caprice, too. What sounded better, though, was hearing Isabella attempt the language. “But they don’t have that here, sweetie,” she said, knowing that wouldn’t make any difference. Isabella was tired, bored, impatient and nothing short of a miracle was going to change her mood. Except, perhaps, a mother’s best bribe. Caprice smiled. “The plane will be here in just a few minutes, then we’ll be going. We’ll stop for ice cream on the way back to meet Grant.” Dr Etana “Grant” Makela, her resident GP and short-hop pilot.
“Ith cream?” Isabella said, suddenly forgetting her mood now that something had caught her interest.
“Say it properly,” Caprice instructed.
“Ith…ice cream.” Getting the words out was an effort, but when she had, Isabella looked pleased with herself.
Sometimes it was still a struggle, but most of the time her daughter was able to work through her speech difficulties, thanks to a great speech therapist back home. And thanks to Isabella herself, who was determined to get it right and go beyond anything expected of her. She worked harder than any child should ever have to, and sometimes Caprice feared all the struggles and work would deprive Isabella of her childhood. It was a difficult balance, keeping everything in its proper perspective. But so far Isabella seemed fine with the rigors and the balance.
Her daughter still had a little trouble with some of her words, especially when she was tired or excited. Overall, though, the difference was nothing short of a miracle. From a little girl who had shied away from people and never spoken to the Isabella who existed right now. A miracle of grand proportions and Caprice’s inspiration for these trips to Costa Rica.
She was grateful the therapist had released Isabella to come along to Costa Rica