A Family For Jana. Eileen Berger
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to try doing better—and hereby give permission for you to hold me accountable if I slip up.”
She started to relax, and her responding smile felt as genuine as his now looked. Continuing to hold her books in her left arm, she impulsively thrust out her other hand. “I will cheerfully accept that responsibility, Dr. Hawkins.”
His grip was firm, and he started to say something else, but she’d glanced at the wall clock, appalled. “Oh, no! I must call the hospital before going to my other class this morning! I’m going to be late.”
He lightly tugged the hand he was still holding as he headed for the door. “My office is right down this hallway. You might as well call from there.”
Todd and Linda were waiting outside, their concerned looks changing to puzzlement, then relief as Jana said, “Dr. Hawkins offered the use of his office phone so I can call the hospital. If Michael’s okay, I’ll run over to Richards Hall for my next class.”
Linda nodded. “Any chance of making the noon meeting?”
“Not today.” She shook her head. “Perhaps tomorrow, if he’s a whole lot better.”
“You have meetings each day?” the professor asked as they walked rapidly down the hall.
He was probably just making conversation, but she could, too. “It’s available each noon, but I usually make it only once or twice a week.”
“Noon meetings?”
“Uh-huh. The Christian Association has done this for years.”
“What do—?” But he interrupted himself by inserting the key he’d taken from his pocket, opening the door, turning on the light and indicating the desk phone. “It’s all yours.”
It took only moments to get through to the pediatric department and learn that Michael was asleep. He appeared to be better, although he was still coughing and wheezing some—but that was to be expected, she was told.
“He’s apparently doing okay, and sleeping right now,” she told the man beside her as she replaced the phone. She drew in a deep breath, let it out slowly, then relaxed a bit. “It’s so scary, especially at night—which is when it almost always happens. I’m grateful that he’s healthy otherwise, and active. Once he’s over even a serious attack, he quickly bounces back.”
“I’m glad.”
“And I must dash!” She was outside the room as she called over her shoulder, “Thanks for the use of your phone.”
Raymond Hawkins stood in his doorway watching the hodgepodge of students, like Jana, rushing to get to their next class. She hurried through the exterior door of the building, and through the glass making up the far side of the covered passageway he saw her leap over the border of blooming tulips and daffodils and run across the grass to save a few seconds.
Only when the door to Richards Hall closed behind her did he turn back to his own office, shut the door, lean back against it—and catch himself sighing. He knew nothing about Jana Jenson—well, almost nothing. He’d noticed that she was not wearing a wedding ring but, until a few minutes ago, had no idea she was the mother of a three-year-old.
And she had guts!
He’d been too aware of her from that very first day in his class. She was incredibly beautiful, with those wide, intense, dark blue eyes and slightly wavy hair the color of that well-pulled brown sugar-taffy he and his sister used to help their mother make each year between Thanksgiving and Christmas.
How long has it been since I’ve thought of doing that—or of eating it? Is it because of her speaking so lovingly of Gram, who would help care for little Michael?
He started going over test papers from the morning’s first class, an advanced one on the human endocrine system, and was pleased that most students were doing well. That class and the one just ended were his favorite courses, partly because of his personal interest, but also because they were electives, so the students taking them were those with a genuine interest in the subjects.
He’d known he would have to mostly teach required subjects for at least the first years of his career. This was his fourth year—since those in power agreed to count that first one, when he’d taken over in early October for a professor who had a massive heart attack. These two courses he’d asked for two years later were something of a reward, he thought, and they made such a difference!
Jana must be older than she looks—or else she had her child when very young. He was surprised to realize his thoughts had reverted to her—and was almost glad when the phone rang and he had to take care of some detailed information. That was much safer than continuing to think of that gorgeous junior. Or might she be only a sophomore?
He did wonder about her. No, she was definitely not wearing a ring on her left hand—and she had a three-year-old son.
And she was evidently a Christian….
Jana slid into the empty seat immediately inside the doorway and, grateful to find the class just beginning, quickly opened her notebook. Statistics. She’d taken it because she thought she should, but was discovering she liked it. Whether I use my early-childhood education degree in a school or some other institution, understanding these principles and problems could be invaluable.
Her mind kept wandering; she so wanted to be with Michael, to hold him and sing to him and calm him if he was frightened or lonely. She did manage to drag her thoughts back fairly quickly each time—but it was taking more and more effort to squelch her eagerness to leave.
Class was eventually over, and she drove to the hospital to find Michael no longer lying listlessly against the high-tilted mattress. He was sitting up in bed, and his face became one big smile. “Mama, you’re back!”
“Yes, sweetie, I sure am, and I plan to stay.” She made sure he saw her place her books on his dresser before going to him. “I came as quickly as I possibly could.”
She pulled away as he shoved a small stuffed raccoon into her face. “Look, Mama, Aunt Vanessa brought him, and his name is Raccie.”
She hugged and kissed Michael, which also gave her the opportunity to make sure he didn’t have an elevated temperature along with his wheezing. “That’s a perfect name for him! Did you think of it all by yourself?”
“Uh-huh,” he said, beaming with pride. “I think lots of things all by myself.”
Her knuckles brushed lightly along his jawline. “You certainly do, and that makes me happy.” After lowering the side rail, she sat on the side of his bed. “And now I want to hear all about your morning—what you saw and who you talked with and everything.”
He rattled on about the nurses, a funny TV cartoon, his Aunt Vanessa, who was actually Gram’s granddaughter, the raccoon and Gram’s phoning while Vanessa was there, saying she’d be coming soon. Jana encouraged his enthusiastic report, rejoicing in his communication skills even while being very aware of his continuing cough and breathing difficulties.
At least neither was as bad as before.
It was some time later that she stood up and, walking toward the door, laid her hand on the books. “I’m leaving my stuff here, Michael, while I go down the hall to talk with one of the nurses.”
His little arms reached toward her. “Don’t go, Mama.”
“I’ll be right back, dear.”
His face began to pucker. “Stay with me.”
She wanted to gather him into her arms, but instead stood there smiling, praying that her manner and voice would reassure him. “I promise to come back very, very soon, Michael.”
A tear formed in each eye. “Last time was a long time.”
“I know, Michael—but remember I told you then that I must go to school and I would be gone quite a while—and I was. And this time I’m saying it will be just