Susan, Lady of Leisure #7

A few weeks later Susan’s doorbell rang. A middle-aged gentleman stood there with a spaniel at his heel. “You must be Susan, the ever-so-helpful nurse?” he said as she opened the door.

Susan was somewhat taken aback. “Well, I am Susan and yes, I am a nurse.”

“Well, I’m James Maddox and I’m a doctor. In fact, I’m the Burchill’s family physician. Tom and Alice have told me all about how you arrived in the nick of time to save poor Tom’s life.”

“Er, well… It just happened that I dropped in. I’m sure Alice would have coped.”

“Well I’m not.” He gave her a big smile. “I think it was provident that you dropped in exactly when they needed someone like you. Since I live only four blocks away, I thought I’d knock on your door while I’m walking my pooch and say a special thank you for all the help you’ve been — and are being — to them.”

“I’m happy to do what I can for them.” Susan held the door open. “Would you like to step inside for a bit, Doctor Maddox?”

“Certainly, for just a moment. And call me James, please. We don’t need to stand on ceremony this morning.”

He turned to the spaniel. “Lie down, Fluffo.”

Susan eyes the dog dubiously. “Fluffo?”

James laughed. “I allowed the grandchildren to name her and that’s what they came up with. Now we’re stuck with it. Oh, well. Thankfully Fluffo isn’t the least embarrassed.”

During their short visit Susan told her caller, “You know, when I retired from nursing, I thought life would be so carefree, but I soon found that doing nothing isn’t healthy at all. I was feeling rather blue there for awhile. My life seemed so empty all of a sudden.”

James nodded. “Everyone looks forward to retirement, but many people find it quite an adjustment, especially if it happens all in one day. Some of my men patients have found the sudden jolt almost as hard to handle as an accident that would put them in the hospital for a month.”

“So here I was one morning,” Susan explained, “sitting here with nothing to do until I got this inspiration to go visit the neighbours. Yes, I believe it was Providence, as you say. And the feeling certainly paid off. The Burchills need me and I’m enjoying their friendship.” She smiled. “And Alice’s delicious baking. I’ll be asking you for a diet sheet before long.”

James chuckled. “Well, if you’d like more to fill your life with, there’s another elderly patient of mine not so far away who’d be happy for a bit of company now and then. She’s a widow whose children have emigrated to America and I know her evening hours get lonely.”

“So! This wasn’t an innocent visit. You had an ulterior motive.”

He laughed. “Just wanted to leave a suggestion. I hate to see a good nurse go to waste. But do whatever is best for you.”

Then he glanced up at the clock. “Now I’d better be on my way or Fluffo will get antsy. She gets bored, too, just sitting around. If you’re ever in Hickling Close, my wife and I live at #24. When I suggested to her that I might stop and say hello to Tom’s new nurse, she said to tell you you’re most welcome to drop in for tea any afternoon.”

Susan walked with him to the door. “Thank you so much. I may do that.”

James turned to her just before he stepped outside. “Oh, and I should warn you that you’ll probably get a visit from Pastor Cecil Smythe before long. When he finds out there’s a new voice in town, he tries to recruit it for the choir.” He winked at her.

Susan grinned. “Thanks for the heads up. I’ll greet him with a song; that ought to persuade him I’d be better off in the pews.”

She watched the doctor stepping briskly down her walk with Fluffo trotting at his heel. She chuckled as she closed the door. As a child she’d had a cat named Fluffo — a big gray Persian. Yes, good thing this poor Fluffo doesn’t know.

Susan, Lady of Leisure #6

So it happened that Susan knocked on the Burchill’s door at 9am sharp every morning to give Tom his insulin shot. I’m glad the Home Care nurses look after the evening medication and the couple’s well being in general, but this is one small thing I can do for them, she said to herself. And it sure helps me to get going in the morning.

Rather than feeling tied down with her new responsibility, Susan found herself enjoying the half hour she spent each morning with the Burchills. Alice often displayed her appreciation in the form of fresh baking: buns; cookies; the occasional pie.

“Mmm… You’ll have me bursting at the seams before long, Alice,” Susan said one day as she nibbled on her second gingerbread cookie. “I’ll have to do a couple more laps around the park every day if I keep this up. ”

Alice gave her a sweet smile and Tom, sitting across the table from Susan, chuckled. “We have you running around so much for us now, it’s only fitting to fill in a few calories here and there. You’re still a slim, trim thing.”

He doesn’t have his glasses on again, Susan noted wryly.

One morning a couple of weeks later, Susan drove Alice to the supermarket for her weekly necessities. In the midst of one aisle Alice stopped short as a woman about Susan’s age approached them and greeted Alice.

“Perhaps you don’t remember me, Mrs. Burchill, but I’m Heather, the daughter of your friend Lillian.”

“Oh, of course. Heather. It’s been a long time…”

“Indeed it has. How have you been keeping?”

After filling Heather in on Tom’s recent health scare and how they were coping with his diabetes, Alice turned to Susan. “And this is Susan, the nurse that helped me so much when Tom went into a coma. I had no idea what was wrong with him. If she hadn’t dropped in at that moment, I don’t know what would have happened!”

“I’m sure you would have soon realized something was amiss and called the ambulance yourself,” Susan countered. “And now you know what to do if there’s ever a next time.”

“Let’s hope there never will be,” said Heather. Then she turned to Susan. “So you’ve retired to our small town. What do you think of it so far?”

Susan soon learned that Heather was a local librarian. Of course the discussion soon turned to books and the current summer reading. Susan commented on a couple of the novels she’d just finished. “In fact, one of these days I’ll pop around to the Library and see what other books you can recommend for me.”

Heather’s eyes lit up. “I’ll be looking forward to seeing you there. Perhaps you’d even like to join our local Book Club, Susan? The group is always looking for new members, avid readers who will add their opinions to the general discussion about the latest books.”

Susan smiled. “I might just do that. I belonged to the club back home and have been missing the interaction with other bookworms. I always found it stimulating to discuss the positives and negatives of current reading. I didn’t think I’d ever say this, but I’ve been missing going to those meetings.”

To be continued…

Note from me:
Poor retired nurse Susan has been neglected for too long while I wrestled with writer’s block. Hope you enjoy this ongoing tale.

Susan, Lady of Leisure #5


The ambulance arrived within five minutes, loaded Tom on a stretcher and took him to the hospital. Susan ran home and got her car, picked up Mrs. Burchill and followed it. Half an hour later Susan was sitting in the Emergency area holding Alice Burchill’s hand as a team of medical personnel worked on Tom in the examining room right beside them.

Soon a young Resident doctor came out wearing a cheery smile and put his hand on Alice’s shoulder. “Things are looking up, Mrs. Burchill. Tom went into a diabetic coma, probably soon after breakfast. We’ve given him insulin and he’s awake now, so you can go in and spend a few minutes with him. We’ll keep him in today for observation. He’ll need insulin injections from now on to manage his diabetes; other than that he should be fine.”

“Oh, thank you so much, Doctor!” Alice stood and rushed into the examining room.

The Resident turned to Susan. “Good thing you recognized the problem and got him in when you did.”

Susan shook her head. “I’m still amazed how this all worked. I mean, I took this sudden notion to visit the neighbors this morning and here he was. Now I’m so glad I followed that little prodding, if you can call it that.”

The Resident chuckled. “I’d say you should keep on getting notions like that. You could prove very helpful to your neighbors, especially people like the Burchills who have no family living nearby.”

He paused then and Susan could see his wheels turning. “You know, I don’t believe he’d be up to doing insulin injections himself,” he told her. “We’ll probably have to arrange for Home Care nurses to come in every day and give him his needles. Unless, as neighbour who’s an RN…” he gave her a meaningful look.

Susan grinned and nodded. “I get it.”

Awhile later Alice joined Susan again and said she’d like a ride home. “I need to pick up some things for Tom and come back. I’m so sorry to take up so much of your time today. But you’ve been a real Godsend.”

Susan took hold of the old lady’s arm. “Now, dear, I had nothing else planned for today, so don’t worry about taking up my time. I’m so glad that I can be of help to you folks. Makes me feel a lot better than if I were just idling around all day.”

To be continued…

A Vintage Year — Book Review

Last week I received a free copy of A Vintage Year by Kate Preston, with the promise that I’d review it and give my honest opinion of this book. So here it is:

Through the main character, former tennis star Harris Tucker, the reader gets a look at the immoral, self-centered world of a celebrity athlete. He’s portrayed as a careless playboy pursuing the pleasures of the flesh— seemingly well indulged in this by many attractive women. But as the story opens he botches an important game and his politically-aspiring mother, disgraced by his fiasco on the tennis court, disowns him. Then his accountant and best friend shuts off his allowance until he learns to curb his wild spending.

In Laura Bollier the reader sees the struggles of a young divorcee tackling both the hard work and planning necessary to keep the family’s grape-growing business solvent and the parenting responsibilities of a single mother. On a dare she offers Harris a week of work, an action that gets her some flak from her family. He may be clueless, but he’s desperate enough to stick it out.

If you are familiar with vineyards, and especially wine production in CA, you will find those details more interesting than I did. I felt the book slowed down in the middle as the writer took time to describe regional vine culture and wine festivals.

I found the story is well told, the plot believable, the characters well fleshed out. Most of the story moved along well. However, the relationship between Harris and Laura is a long, drawn out affair more off than on. And I did feel Harris’s mother’s “Wicked Witch of the West” role was sometimes overplayed. It’s a totally secular story; there are no religious references in it at all.

It seems the editor and writer got tired partway through the book. It could use one more editorial polishing, especially the last third. Language got a little coarser in the tense spots toward the end, too. There are typos, missing words, wrong verb tenses and such that an editor should have caught.

In places the personal pronouns are confusing; in a few spots the POV switches abruptly from one character to another, sometimes in the middle of a paragraph, and the reader is left to guess where exactly the break comes. There were places where the writer “showed” us but then told us anyway — and places where we were just told. Over all it was an interesting story.

Susan, Lady of Leisure #4


Susan cleared away the breakfast things and set out to call on the Burchills, an elderly couple next door. She’d exchanged a few words over the backyard fence with the couple as they sat outside in the evening; Mrs. Burchill had even suggested Susan drop in for tea some day. Maybe it would suit her this morning.

Mrs. Burchill answered Susan’s knock and welcomed her to step in, but the elderly lady seemed preoccupied about something. “Perhaps this isn’t a good time?” Susan said. “I could come back some other day.”

“Oh, no. It’s fine. I’m glad you’ve come. It’s just that Tom isn’t awake.” The old lady’s hands moved nervously over her bodice. “He said after breakfast that he was feeling a bit tired and wanted to have lie down, but I’m surprised he’s sleeping so long.”

She led Susan into the kitchen. “You’re most welcome to have a cuppa with us. I’ll just put the kettle on, then I’ll call Tom. I know he wouldn’t want to miss your visit. Sit down, Susan.”

Susan did sit, but she was anxious. Her nurse’s training was kicking in, asking the questions she’d ask at the hospital. Is Mr. Burchill having a serious health issue? Heart trouble maybe? Or was he just tired, not surprising at his age. But right after breakfast? She listened as the old woman’s voice got louder.

Soon Mrs. Burchill was back in the kitchen wringing her hands. “I don’ know what to do. Tom just won’t wake up!”

“May I have a look at him? I’m a trained nurse.”

“Oh, thank heaven! Yes, He’s in here.”

Susan followed Mrs. Burchill into the bedroom where Tom was stretched out, breathing normally. His colour was good. But when he didn’t respond to Susan’s touch she lifted his eyelid — and saw blackness.

“He’s unconscious, Mrs. Burchill.”

The old lady gasped and sat down on a nearby chair. “What can I do,” she wailed.

“The first thing is to call an ambulance.”

To be continued….

Susan, Lady of Leisure #2


Susan took her time selecting and packing up her belongings, disposing of all the stuff she didn’t want to bother moving.

“Funny how one collects so much in a lifetime,” she told her daughter one morning. “But I want a life of a minimalist now. No more trying to find places to store knickknacks. No more cleaning clutter and moving it from one spot to another.”

Another task that took some of her time was saying her farewells at the various groups and clubs she was a member of through the years. She determined to be a minimalist in that regard, too.

“Now that I’m retired,” she told her friends at the book club, “I’m going to be careful what pies I put my finger in from now on. I may join the book club down there, or I may not, but I’m definitely not going to become so involved in organizations. I don’t regret the time I’ve contributed to Bake Sales or served on the Boards of MADD and the COPD Foundation, but now they will have to do without me.”

“We’ll see about that,” her friend said with a nod. “You may get bored and want to become involved in things down there.” She nudged Susan and winked. “Now that you have all this free time, you can bet different groups will be calling on you.”

Susan laughed. “As for being bored, that may take a year or two. And I can always say no to people who want to sign me up for this and that.”

The whole group then toasted her new life of ‘footloose and fancy free.”

Finally the day came when the last thing had been loaded on the moving van and it was heading off. Susan locked her apartment door for the last time, handed in the keys to the super, and drove away. She took her time driving down to the coast, hitting a few tourist spots en route. She stopped at some small village tea shops, savoring her new freedom as well as the local cuisines. Life is so good, she told herself.

She arrived at the cottage to find the moving van had already arrived and unloaded everything so she got right to work. It took her a few weeks to unpack and get her belongings stowed into their proper places in her new home. And of course yard work now occupied some of her time. The last owner had a gorgeous flower garden Susan intended to keep up. All her life she’d wanted one.

The next month flew by as Susan enjoyed her flowers, puttered around the house, and visited the local stores. Being only half an hour from the beach, she spent quite a few mornings stretched out in the sunshine. Not ever one to sit in front of the television, she spent the pleasant summer evenings reading or doing walkabouts in the neighborhood. She met and chatted with her new neighbors from time to time.

Yes, this was the retirement life she’d always dreamed of. Nothing to do, no appointments to keep. Sure, she missed the hustle and bustle of the hospital ward at times. As much as she was glad to get away from that old routine, being totally without one started to bother her a bit. The first few weeks she’d told herself, There’s no hurry. I can sleep til noon if I wish. But now she was starting to think, I can’t just let myself go to pot, either. I don’t want to morph into a couch potato here!

One day an odd, empty feeling came over her. It took her awhile to define it, but finally it condensed into a question: Do I have any real purpose in life anymore?

She brushed it away at first, yet somehow that question rose up like a mountain, looming over her, dark and scary. Susan trembled. She didn’t have an answer.

To be continued…

Susan, Lady of Leisure #1


“Now don’t you be in here with sunstroke next week!” Lynn, the head nurse winked as she waggled her finger at Susan. She cut a piece of the celebratory cake, dropped it onto a paper plate, and handed it to Susan. “Here’s the biggest piece for our guest of honor.”

“Best of luck, girl. You’ll be a lady of leisure now,” said Ethel, another ward nurse. “I’m sure looking forward to joining you – but I’ve got ten more years to go,” she added with a sigh.

“Well, I’m cheating to retire at 55, but with the inheritance from my Uncle James adding a bit to my pension, why shouldn’t I?” Susan admired the neatly formed icing rose on her piece of cake and shoved it to the side of her plate to keep as a souvenir of this party.

Nurse Karen balanced her plate of cake in one hand and patted Susan’s shoulder with the other. “You just enjoy your retirement years. You’ve earned it. And just think: no cranky old ladies hollering ‘Nurse! I need a bedpan.’ Lucky you!”

“I prescribe sunny southern climates all winter for the next twenty years,” said one of the Residents as he shook Susan’s hand.

“That sounds great! But I probably can’t afford that lifestyle if I’m not working 8-5 every day.” Susan chuckled at the mental picture of herself basking in the sun at the Riviera. With her fair complexion, plus being rather pale from years of working indoors, she might look like a boiled lobster if she spent too much time in the sun right off the bat.

Susan’s daughter Rhoda, who had taken time off to join the celebration, told the group, “Mom may not be doing the South Seas every winter, but she’s bought a neat little bungalow in a small southern village right on the coast close to Bournemouth.”

“Good for her,” Nurse Amanda cheered. “When can I come for a visit.” Everyone laughed.

“Will you be renting out a spare room for guests?” Nurse Collin asked in a teasing tone. “My wife would love a weekend down at the coast. Stuck here in Aylesbury all our lives, never toured southern England yet.”

Susan looked around the staff’s lunch room at the coworkers, dear to her heart, who’d come to say farewell. She smiled at the “Happy Days Ahead!” banner someone had tacked on one wall. In spite of the joyful occasion, which marked the end of running back and forth along this ward, she felt tears prick her eyes.

Yes, she’d had her holidays and some hobbies that kept her busy, but the past twenty-five years of her life had been devoted to this place. She’d gone back to nursing to support herself and her two children after Harvey’s death and the work had been a lifeline for her in more ways than one. What would she do now?

Susan made up her mind right there: she would not become a lonely old widow. As she nibbled at her cake her mind started flipping through the possibilities — all the dreams she’d had, some of which she might now be able to fulfill. She chuckled. If she got too bored she could always enroll in university.

Stella, another nurse a few years younger than Susan, wrapped an arm around her and gave her a gentle squeeze. “We’ll miss you. You’ve been so good with the patients. You’ve definitely earned your day of rest, Susan. Put your feet up. Read some good books.”

Susan waved her hand upwards. “I sure will. The sky’s the limit!”

At the end of the party Susan circled around the lunch room one last time, gave everyone a hug and left them with a promise to follow the prescribed course of treatment: total rest. Together with her daughter she walked down the hall and pushed the elevator button, dabbing at a few lingering tears.

“This is so sweet,” she said to Rhoda. “Last time on this elevator. Freedom!” They got off by the staff exit and Susan walked out that door for the last time.

To Be Continued…

FULL HOUSE–Book Report

© 2012 by Maeve Binchy

This book is classed as a “Quick Read” and it was. I picked it up at the library last week and read it in one evening. It was also a delightful tale, the story of Dee & Liam, whose adult children still live at home and are totally at ease in the old nest. The young folks are totally focused on their own personal problems and take it for granted Mom look after all their physical needs: the cooking, cleaning, laundry, etc.

Then Dee & Liam face a financial and emotional crash and Dee realizes this system can’t go on. But now, how to go about re-educating their offspring after years of “training” them to be careless and self-centered? A rebellion is in order here.

I think this story could be a great eye-opener for teenagers and young adults living at home as well as for parents of teens and young adults.

Back cover blurb:
Rosie moved out when she got married, but it didn’t work out, so now she is back with her parents. Helen is a teacher and doesn’t earn enough for a place of her own. Anthony writes songs and is just waiting for the day when someone will pay him for them. Until then, all three are happy at home. It doesn’t cost them anything and surely their parents like having a full house?

Then there is a crisis and Dee decides things have to change for the whole family…whether they like it or not.

Sometimes You Hit A Homer

Gord and I had just finished shooing a few last gawkers away from the crash site when a car pulled into the driveway and a young woman got out and walked toward us, an inquisitive look on her face.

Gord rolled his eyes heavenward. “Whenever there’s a crime everyone and his pup wants to see the blood,” he grumbled.

I winked at my fellow officer. “I don’t see any pup. Just a nice looking lady.”

“Well, you deal with her, Mike. Tell her, ‘Sorry. No bodies today’.” He turned to talk with the tow truck driver and the two of them walked away.

As I watched the woman coming toward me, I guessed her to be in her late-twenties. Not pretty, exactly, but neat. Sandy blond hair fastened behind her head with a clip. Her outfit, a soft green skirt and matching flowered top, coordinated nicely.

Amanda always liked color-coordinated outfits. A twinge of grief hit me. Poets probably call this feeling “bittersweet.” Sweet memory; bitter grief. Co-ordinated sentiments?

This lady didn’t look like your usual crime-scene spectator. Did she have some business here? Neighbors had told us the owners were away on vacation so perhaps this was some friend or relative checking up on things.

She watched the tow truck driver haul away the car the young hoods had totaled, then she turned to me. “What happened, Officer?”

“We’re still investigating, ma’am, but it appears a couple of teen boys held up a gas station and tore off when police tried to stop them. They lost control making a turn, spun out, and hit this garage.”

She frowned. “I hope they weren’t killed!”

“No, just stunned a bit. They ran when our officers got here, but they’re in custody now.”

“Well, I’m sorry they crashed, but at least they’ll get the chance to think it over.”

“Yeah. Probably for six months or so.” I noticed her different accent. Out of state. “And what brings you here this morning, ma’am?”

“My friend asked me to meet her here. I wonder if she knows about this? She didn’t say anything when I talked to her earlier.”

“Your friend?”

“Brianne Rancourt. She’s been house-sitting for these folks while they’re on holidays.”

“Ah. We’ll need to talk to her.”

“We planned to meet here, check on the place, then do lunch. Shall I call her, sir?” She turned her huge peepers on me — nice denim blue ones — and my pulse did a quick double blip.

I took a deep breath. “Uh… Just give me her number and I’ll get the investigating officer to contact her.” I grabbed my notebook and she rattled off the pertinent info, then waited as I relayed it to headquarters.

She eyed the damage. “Brianne will be so shocked. She’s been house-sitting here for the past two weeks and never had any trouble. I feel sorry for the owners, coming home to this.”

Her tone, soft and gentle now, reminded me of the folks at my wife’s funeral. They’d give me a hug or pat me on the shoulder as they filed past, murmuring, “I’m so sorry, Mike.” Or they’d look at my kids and say, “This is so sad!”

I jerked my mind back to the present. “How long have you known Ms Rancourt?”

“Only ten days, actually. My Aunt lives here in Houston. She had a bad fall and broke her hip, so I took time off work and drove down from Great Falls to help her out. I met Brianne at the hospital; her aunt’s on the same ward.”

“Great Falls, Montana? Ah! That explains your accent.”

Her eyes sparkled. “Actually, we don’t have an accent. It’s you Texans that talk funny.” I chuckled at the way she drawled this last sentence.

I flipped to a new page in my notebook. “I should take down your name and number as well, ma’am.”

Her eyebrows lifted. “Really? But it’s purely coincidence that I’m here now, sir.”

I put on my best stern-cop frown, avoiding those curious blue eyes. “Perhaps we’ll need to contact you for some reason.”

“Okay. I’m Shannon Ryan. As I said, I live in Great Falls. Age thirty-one — in case you need that, too.” I couldn’t miss the hint of teasing in her voice.

I grinned. “I admire your honesty, ma’am. Most women I know stop at twenty-nine.” That made her smile.

Amanda had always joked that she was going to quit counting birthdays when she hit thirty. I’d laughed and told her I’d just have to grow old all by myself then. Those words came back to haunt me now. We never dreamed she wouldn’t live to see thirty; we never foresaw a fatal aneurysm snatching her away from me and the kids.

I focused on my notebook. “Married or single?” Police records didn’t require that, but hey. We can do things different here in Texas, right?

“I’m a widow.”

That got my attention. “I’m sorry to hear that. For long?”

She sighed. “It’s been ten years for me. And Brianne was widowed two years ago. I guess that’s why we hit it off so well when we met. We can commiserate.”

My brain did the math. “You must have been married real young then?”

“Yeah. I was seventeen when we got married; Brad was eighteen. Young and foolish, folks said, but we were very much in love. He was killed in a car accident on his way home from work one night. Four sweet years — far too short.” She blinked back some tears.

I nodded sympathetically. “I hear you, ma’am. I lost my wife four months ago. Feels like our time together was far too short, too.”

“My condolences,” she murmured. “Those first few months alone are a long, hard walk.”

“You’ve never remarried? Not currently, uh, involved?” Man, you’re nervy, Mike, I chided myself. But I had to ask.

“No.” She hesitated a moment. “I was engaged briefly three years ago, but that really blew up in my face. I run a daycare and it turned out he had an agenda. An ‘unnatural interest’ in children. I’ll admit a few red flags did pop up, but I so much wanted a home and family of my own that I reasoned them away.”

“The snake!” I spat the word out, thinking of my own innocent kids.

“Yeah. How could I have not seen it? And the scandal when he was arrested really sank me. Headlines like: ‘Day care operator’s fiancé arrested for trafficking in kiddie porn’ and ‘Police investigate pedophile’s involvement with day care owner.’ I’d never left him alone with any of the kids in my care — I testified to that in court — but my business was toast. I had to sell my house and start up elsewhere.”

I gritted my teeth. “I know what I’d like to do with someone like that!”

“So I’m sure you can understand why I try not to think about marriage anymore. I’m scared to hope again for fear it’ll be ‘Three strikes, you’re out’.” She smiled then, but the tears made her eyes glisten.

She shook her head and fixed her eyes on the garage. “Anyway, this isn’t all about me, so I’d better get on my way.” She turned and walked toward her car.

Should I just let her go? Something about this lady impressed me. She’d been through the mill and could still smile. I could use someone like that in my life — someone who’d understand.

A nagging voice piped up. It’s too soon to get involved, Mike. Just drop it!

Yeah, too soon. Yet I was so lonely! The emptiness had set in as soon as the last relative left. Every day my house felt empty: the loving greetings, the noisy meals together, the hugs and kisses were all gone. Every night my bed felt lonelier.

What will people think? They’ll say you didn’t love Amanda much if you find someone else so soon.

Stuff it, I retorted. I need someone. The kids need a mother. I’ve prayed God would send me someone who’ll love my kids. And if this is my someone, I’m not letting her walk away.

“Shannon, wait…” I called. She stopped and turned around.

“I’ve been thinking — since you’re down here alone and don’t know the city, perhaps you might, uh, like an unofficial police escort? Maybe for some shopping or sightseeing? And there are some really neat cruises in the Gulf you might want to take in while you’re here.”

She was quiet for a moment. Wrestling with her own nagging voices, most likely.

“Don’t give up on finding love,” I encouraged her. “After all, not everybody strikes out. Sometimes you hit a homer on the third swing.”

Something seemed to click and her face broke into a beautiful smile. “You know,” she said, “a police escort might not be such a bad idea. Might save me from some other slippery snakes. Yeah, I’d like to look around this town more, with a little help. Since you’re offering.”

Her smile seemed to bring the sunshine into my world again. I held out my hand. “My name’s Mike Andrews, by the way. And I have a five-year-old and a two-year-old who’d be glad to spend time with someone who likes children.”

She reached out and shook my hand. “Pleased to meet you, Mike. And I do like children. In fact I always wanted house full.”

I gave her my biggest smile. “I’m with you on that one.”

Troy’s Wake-Up Call


As a reward for our recent hard work, our sales team had chosen to spend a few days at a resort renowned for its golf greens. I was coming in with my small plane and everything was A-okay.  Visibility was great; the tarmac stretched out invitingly; my landing gear was unfolding as it should.

It would have been a perfect landing — if only those crazy birds had stayed put.

In my descent I could see the fairway on my left farther up. I also took note of the winding stream below as I brought my small plane down, focused on the strip of asphalt ahead. I never saw the two birds they say rose up from the river below. I only felt a violent jerk as something hit the prop and I lost control.

I vaguely recall a tumbling, falling sensation, the far-off wail of sirens. I remember thinking at one point, Guess my buddies will have to play without me, ‘cause I won’t be making it to the fairway today.

I woke up flat out on a bed, hearing blimps and bleeps from machines and soft voices. Definitely hospital sounds. I tried to open my eyes or turn my head, but my body was like stone. I couldn’t stay awake.

I came to later, hearing familiar voices right near my bed. My wife, Lacey, my mom and dad. They were murmuring, talking about the crash of a small plane, a bird in the prop. Bit by bit the memory came back to me.  I tried to make some noise. I tried moving my hand, my foot — anything to let them know I was awake — but my body wouldn’t co-operate. I couldn’t even tell that I even had arms or legs. Maybe I didn’t? That thought scared the living daylights out of me. But I couldn’t open my eyes to check.


“How long do you think it will be until he comes out of this, doctor?” I could hear the fear in Lacey’s voice.

Another voice, professional, yet kind. “We can never be sure. A lot of patients with similar injuries come to within a week or two. Some don’t.”

NO! I don’t want to lie here another week or two, I want to get up, move around. Then his last words buzzed around in my brain, torturing me. Some don’t. Ever.

“When he does come to again, what are the chances that Troy will live a normal life?” Dad’s voice. Always the optimist, he wouldn’t take ‘never’ for an answer.

“That’s impossible to determine until he wakes up and we assess how much neurological damage has been done.”

Hours passed — or was it days? I came to many times and tried to move, but it was like someone had set me in concrete. What I wouldn’t give to at least say a few words, find out what was going on! When the doctor was in the room I tried my hardest to scream, but not even a squeak came out.

I lived for the visits of my family. Lacey brought Kyle and Tianna. They were full of questions. Lacey explained, “Daddy’s in a coma. It’s like he’s asleep. But maybe he can hear us, so talk to him.”

Poor kids. They didn’t understand, but they tried. Kyle told me about school. Tianna told me about the new girl on our street. Their voices were like a lifesaver to a drowning sailor. If only I could communicate just how much those visits meant to me.

I made a vow. When I come out of this, I’m going to tell them every day how sweet their voices sound.

Even the medical people brightened my dark world. How I wish I could tell them that! I knew from the few comments the nurses made right by my bed that they were moving me, washing me, but I felt nothing. Much as I hated to be so helpless, their snatches of gossip as they worked with me reassured me that I was still in the land of the living.


Then came that marvelous day when my eyes opened.

If you only knew what it’s like to live in grey shadows for days — or was it even weeks? — and then one day be able to see light and color and people. Wonderful is far too small a word; it’s like saying the Grand Canyon is large. And to see the faces of Lacey, the kids, my parents, standing around me with great big grins. To see the hope shining in their eyes.

The only thing that it was the day I took my first step. It was the first step of my new life as a husband, a father, a son. Thank God for second chances!