“For heaven’s sake, Nathan, she’s a three-year-old who has been uprooted too many times. It’s no wonder she’s afraid it will happen again or try to find someone to blame. Did you think she would be completely unscathed by losing both her parents and her aunt in such a short time?”
He pushed his hands into his pockets, digesting her words. “I thought she was doing fine, settling in great. She always seems happy enough. Hasn’t caused any trouble here or at school. I didn’t even know about this doctor phobia until today.”
Lenore shook her head. “You still don’t completely understand what you’ve taken on, do you? Children don’t express their fears and feelings the same way adults do. And they don’t necessarily act out when they have problems. Sometimes the best behaved small children become the most rebellious teenagers. I’m not saying that will happen to Isabelle—not if she receives the support and guidance she will require until then—but there’s a great deal more to raising a child than playing with her and making sure her physical needs are met.”
Stung by the implied criticism, Nathan lifted his chin. “I know that, but she didn’t exactly come with parenting advice. I’ve been doing the best I can and I still think she’s better off with me than she would have been with strangers.”
“Perhaps you’re right,” his mother surprised him by conceding. “She’s obviously very attached to you, and I’m sure that gives her more of a sense of security in this new home. Still, it probably wouldn’t hurt her to see a counselor for a few sessions to work through her feelings about the changes in her life. And perhaps to talk about this fear of doctors before it turns into a full-fledged phobia. I’m on the advisory board of the Sunshine Children’s Counseling Center, you know. There are several excellent counselors on staff there.”
“I’ll, uh, look into it. Thanks.”
Caitlin appeared at the end of the hallway, looking uncertainly from Nathan to his mother. “The soup is ready. Do you think I should prepare a tray for Isabelle?”
“I’m sure she would be more comfortable at the table,” Lenore replied before turning back to Nathan. “She’ll need plenty of liquids today, and she can have another dose of the medicine in four hours. If her fever climbs too high, or she starts acting disoriented or having convulsions, you should, of course, seek immediate medical attention, even if you have to be quite firm with her about seeing a doctor. You can be firm with Isabelle when necessary, can’t you, Nathan?”
Aware that Caitlin was watching him with a sudden smile, Nathan scowled and muttered, “Of course I can. I am the adult around here, Mom, and I’ve made it clear to Isabelle that I make the rules.”
“Good. Every child needs rules and boundaries in addition to unconditional love and support.” Lenore paused a moment, then met Nathan’s eyes squarely. “I’m afraid I’ve neglected the latter part of that advice myself. I haven’t been available to you, Nathan, and I apologize for that. I let my own selfish feelings come between us at a time when you needed me, and I’m not proud of that. I am, however, proud of you.”
He melted, of course, as he always did when his family was involved. “Mom, I—”
Clearly uncomfortable at being a spectator to this emotional moment, Caitlin moved toward the den door. “I’ll take Isabelle to eat her soup.”
“There’s no need for you to discreetly exit, Caitlin. I’ve said what I needed to say.” Lenore touched a fingertip to the corner of each of her eyes before saying to Nathan, “Isabelle does look remarkably like Deborah, doesn’t she?”
Swallowing a sizable lump in his throat, Nathan nodded. “Very much.”
“Have you had lunch, Mrs. McCloud?” Caitlin asked, seemingly on impulse.
“No, I had just returned home from church when Nathan called.”
“Then would you join us?” Caitlin suggested, darting a glance at Nathan, who nodded approvingly. “Nathan promised to make spaghetti sauce.”
“Nathan makes horrendous spaghetti sauce,” Lenore said flatly. “I’ll stay, but I’ll do the cooking.”
“Gee, thanks a lot, Mom,” Nathan murmured, too pleased that their relationship seemed to be on the mend to take offense at the slur to his spaghetti sauce. Which, he thought, was pretty darned good, if he did say so himself.
Isabelle ate her lunch at the kitchen table under Caitlin’s supervision while Nathan and Lenore prepared the meal for the adults. Isabelle seemed much more interested in watching Nathan and his mother arguing over the best way to prepare spaghetti sauce than she was in eating.
Caitlin finally took the spoon and scooped chicken noodle soup into Isabelle’s mouth. The child ate without much enthusiasm, but did manage to finish about half the soup before stubbornly shaking her head and refusing more.
“Nathan, would you please sit down and get out of my way?” Lenore finally asked in exasperation. “Tear some lettuce for a salad or something.”
“I still say you need to add more garlic and oregano to the sauce,” he grumbled, opening the refrigerator.
Her prim navy dress hidden behind a big barbecue apron, his mother shook a wooden spoon warningly at him. “I was cooking spaghetti sauce long before you were born. Now watch your manners or you’ll stand in the corner until lunch is ready.”
Isabelle giggled. “Nate’s mom is funny,” she confided to Caitlin. “I like her.”
“Yes, so do I,” Caitlin replied, aware that Lenore had gone still for a moment.
Lenore gave the child a somewhat stilted smile. “Thank you, Isabelle. Drink your juice now, you need the liquid.”
“’Kay.” Isabelle obligingly raised her plastic tumbler to her lips.
Lenore turned back to the cooking. “Nathan, where do you keep your…never mind, I found it.”
Having washed a head of lettuce, Nathan sat at the table to tear it into a bowl for salad. “Are you feeling better, poppet?”