The Nature of Love (Love in the Spotlight #3)

Chapter 11

Eleven

My mind had now become a place of torment. Every single precious memory I had with Ellynn blazed like Technicolor and the best CGI framework. Along with each memory came the glaring gap of time that spanned between each visit with my baby sister. Why did she have to move to Kentucky? Why couldn’t I have seen her on a daily basis?

I’d been too focused on my job. What had started as a childhood dream to keep us from starving had turned into a path I never allowed myself to deviate from. Too much had ridden on my success. Becoming a doctor had meant a better life for myself as well as Ellynn. Sure, I’d become a doctor, had cared for my sister, but at what cost?

How could my sweet sister be dead? My poor, precious nieces. Once more, two sisters had been orphaned.

Not true. They have you. You care when no one else will.

I had to remind myself that my nieces wouldn’t suffer the same fate Ellynn and I had. Though we hadn’t been true orphans, our parents’ absence still remained a daily reality. They’d been too busy chasing the next high to care whether we were fed or clothed. I’d been the one to make breakfast f or us, get us to the bus on time, and make sure we had food to eat come dinnertime.

When I’d graduated from high school, my parents had agreed to let Ellynn come live with me. She’d only been twelve, but I made sure I had a job to pay for an apartment for the both of us. We flourished away from our childhood home—a shack that should’ve been condemned years before.

Ellynn graduated from high school six years later and went to culinary school, where she met Asher. They’d fallen in love and were married by the time she turned twenty. Only Ellynn didn’t start the family she’d dreamed of right away. She suffered with infertility issues for years. Cheyenne was the gift Ellynn had been waiting nine years for, and Ashlynn an added bonus.

I’d always imagined I’d have kids of my own. Yet my chances dwindled with every birthday. I hadn’t hit menopause yet, but my biological clock seemed to shout at me with every passing day. However, I’d never imagined caring for two kids through the act of guardianship.

“Dr. Kennedy, do you understand?”

I blinked, my eyes bringing the social worker into focus. Linda Simmons—as she’d introduced herself—had said a whole lot, but not much registered in my brain. I turned to Chris, who squeezed my hand, then let go.

“Ms. Simmons stated that Ellynn and Asher previously filed paperwork stating you would be the girls’ guardian if both of them passed away.” Chris’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “She said you can take the girls back to Colorado, but the family courts will set a date to confirm the guardianship as permanent.”

“Okay.” I grimaced. My voice sounded so weak, so feeble.

“You’ll need new car seats. The current ones are no longer v iable since they were in the car at the time of the accident,” Ms. Simmons continued. “If your young man wants to go buy them, there’s a store just up the road.”

My hand gripped Chris’s arm. He couldn’t leave. How could I talk to the girls by myself? And sweet Ashlynn. A baby had no real understanding of death.

“I can ask Tuck to go to the store, if you need me here,” Chris said.

“Please.” I still hadn’t come to grips with how he knew Tucker Hale, the same man I had operated on earlier in the year when I’d visited Ellynn to celebrate Ashlynn’s birth. Kentucky really was a small world.

Chris pulled out his cell and texted a message, then slipped the phone back into his pocket. “He’s on it.”

“Are you ready to see the girls?” the social worker asked.

No. I was not ready, but I couldn’t let them just stay in the next room, confused as to where Ellynn and Asher were.

“You can do this,” Chris murmured in my ear.

I slowly nodded.

The social worker smiled at me. “You’ll be just what they need.”

Tears pricked my eyelids once more. How could I look at my nieces and tell them their mom and dad wouldn’t be coming home?

We stood, and I wrapped my hand around Chris’s. “Chris?”

“Yeah?” He studied me.

I gathered some courage. “Will you pray? I ... I don’t know how. I don’t even know if it works, but when you did it the last time, I felt something.” And something was better than nothing at this point. I was falling apart, but if Chris’s strength and even his faith in an unknown deity could see me through, then I needed whatever it took.

“Of course.” He bowed his head.

L ike last time, I watched. I listened.

The pressure across my chest eased just enough for me to take in a breath. To exhale as Chris’s calm voice washed over me, strengthened me, prepared me somewhat.

“Amen.”

“Thank you.”

Ms. Simmons led the way down the hall. Each step felt like a walk along the green mile.

I can’t do this. I can’t do this. I can’t .

You’ve got no choice, Erykah. Lean on Chris.

Could I tighten my fingers around his any more without restricting his blood flow? Would he even speak up if I crushed his hand? Not once since I received that awful visit from Officer Pratt had Chris faltered. He’d gotten us on the plane, into Tuck’s truck, and in front of the police and then the social worker.

He’ll be with you in front of the girls as well.

Ms. Simmons quietly opened the door. Cheyenne popped up from the mat, where she had sat quietly with her doll. “Auntie Erykah!”

She ran to me, arms wide. I let go of Chris’s hand and scooped her up, cradling her close to me. Tears welled in my eyes as I pushed against the need to cry. She reminded me so much of Ellynn when she was this age.

“Where’s Mama? Daddy?”

Cheye’s hair had been tamed into two twin braids. I smoothed my hand down the plaits, imagining Ellynn braiding her daughter’s hair. What would’ve been a normal routine would now be one of the last moments Cheyenne had with her mom. My throat ached with unshed tears.

“I have to tell you something, sweetie.”

Cheyenne’s big brown eyes stared into my very soul. “What happened? Something bad?”

“ Yes. I’m so sorry. But your mommy and daddy got hurt.” Please don’t cry, please don’t cry.

“Can you make them all better? You’re a doctor.”

Break my heart. I wished I could. “I can’t, Cheye. They’re in heaven now.” Oh goodness. I was telling an impressionable child Ellynn resided in a place I wasn’t sure existed. But if it did...

I stared at Chris, and he dipped his head as if to say, You’re doing just fine . I hoped he was right. I didn’t want to scar Cheyenne. I had no idea how you were supposed to tell a child their parents were both dead.

Agony filled every fiber of my being.

“What do you mean?” Her brow wrinkled.

“They died, sweetie.” I said the words gently. Spoke the horrifying words that my own mind was still wrestling with.

“You’re lying.” A storm cloud rose on her face. “Mama and Daddy wouldn’t leave me. You’re a meanie.”

“Cheyenne...”

She shoved against me, bucking in my arms. I set her down, hoping to avoid any injuries to her small body.

“Mommy!” she wailed.

The social worker stepped forward. Had she been standing there the whole time?

She lowered herself to her knees, looking Cheyenne right in the eyes. “Cheyenne, I’m afraid your aunt isn’t lying.”

Cheyenne sniffed while staring at the social worker.

“Remember what I said my job was when I first met you?”

“To help kids like me?”

I glanced at the crib in the room, surprised Ashlynn could stay asleep through her big sister’s tears.

“That’s right. When parents can no longer take care of their children, they call me to make sure the kids will be okay.”

C onfusion covered Cheye’s little face. “Aunt Erykah isn’t lying?”

“No. She got on a plane and came out here as soon as she could to make sure you were safe too. She wants to take you home with her.”

“But home is with my mommy and daddy.” Her little lip poked out.

I wholeheartedly agreed with her statement, but I was powerless to change reality.

“I know it’s hard to believe, but they’re in heaven just like your aunt said.”

“They can’t be. They’re not old like you.”

I winced. In any other circumstances, this might pull some type of chuckle from me, but all I felt was an ache deep in my soul.

“Sometimes people get hurt even if they’re young.”

Cheyenne’s bottom lip began to quiver again.

“What about my room?”

This time, I was the one to move closer. Taking a page out of Ms. Simmons’s book, I sat on the floor. “We can take whatever you want back to my place.”

“You really flew on a plane?”

I nodded and pointed to Chris. “My friend, Chris, made sure I got here as soon as possible.”

“Thank you, Mr. Chris.” Cheyenne stepped closer to me. “Will Ashlynn come too?”

“Of course she will.”

She nodded as if accepting her fate. I hated this for her, but I was thankful she had calmed quickly, though I was sure the tears would be here for a while. “Are you ready to leave?”

“Go home with you right now?” Her eyes widened.

I shook my head. “No, sorry, sweetie. We’ll go to your house f irst. I have to know what you want to bring to Colorado, right?”

Relief pooled in her eyes. “Okay.” She slipped her hand into mine. “Don’t forget the baby.”

Ms. Simmons picked up my sleeping niece and placed her into my arm. I had one arm wrapped around Ashlynn, and the other hand held Cheyenne. My gaze met Chris’s. “We’re ready.” But the staccato rhythm of my heart said otherwise.

“All right. Tuck just pulled up.”

Ms. Simmons followed behind us to ensure we’d obtained the appropriate car seats for the girls. After watching me buckle them in to make sure I had an understanding, she nodded. “I’ll contact you once the courts set the date.”

“Thank you for watching over them.”

“It was my pleasure.” She squeezed my hand. “I’m so sorry for your loss. Take care of those dear girls.”

“I will.” I maneuvered around one of the car seats until I sat in the middle between the girls.

Chris and Tuck kept quiet all the way to my sister’s place. There seemed to be an unspoken agreement that everyone would be left to their thoughts, but I couldn’t wait to be alone. There was a storm of tears waiting for release, but until then, I’d put on a brave front for my nieces. I was no stranger to hardship, but not having Ellynn by my side had rocked my very foundation. How was I supposed to move forward?