Mom in the Middle Read Free

his insides as he realized his verbal gaffe and the complicated facts that accompanied her simple response. She was a young woman alone, so much weight on her slender shoulders and without the love and support of a husband, that treasure the married women in his family prized above all else.
    â€œI’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to make things worse for you.”
    â€œDon’t feel badly. It’s been nearly two years and it’s a common assumption when you have a toddler, so I’m almost used to it.”
    The boy whined louder.
    â€œI really am pretty good with a grumpy baby,” he assured her, remembering his sister Tess’s wedding day when he’d been officially appointed to make sure none of the little ones got out of sorts during the reception. Good thing it was his policy never to take a date to a family function, because these days the girls expected Uncle Guy to be their babysitter.
    Dillon strained against his mother’s efforts to rest his head on her shoulder and his blubbering continued with gusto. His face was contorted in aggravation when he turned his head toward Guy.
    â€œHey, little pal,” Guy used his best cajoling tone and nodded toward the nearby glass wall that over-looked the hospital’s courtyard. “Wanna go look out the window?” He held his palms out, but not too close.
    Briefly distracted from his misery, Dillon’s crying stopped. He snuffled and hiccupped while his mother smoothed the face that was remarkably free of tears. He peered at Guy, who used the positive sign to take a small step closer and smile. The boy looked to his mother for guidance.
    â€œGo see birdies?” she encouraged. “Tweet, tweet, tweet.”
    His head bobbed and he leaned away from his mama, reaching chubby arms outward. Guy scooped up the boy, amazed by how heavy the little tyke felt.
    â€œWhoa, this fella is solid.”
    â€œTell me about it.” Her eyes were round. She was clearly surprised that Dillon had left the security of her arms. She shrugged, then dropped her large purse on a nearby chair and rotated her shoulders. The latest revelation as well as the creases across her forehead told Guy the contents of the bag were nothing compared to the weight on this woman who was not much more than a girl herself.
    â€œMrs. Cramer? Dr. Cabot is ready to speak with you now,” a nurse called.
    Abby turned toward the voice, then back to Guy and her son. Worry deepened the lines in her pretty face. She leaned to retrieve the bag and Guy knew Dillon would naturally be next.
    â€œGo ahead. Leave him with me. We’ll be fine and you can give the doctor your undivided attention.”
    She squinted, seemed unsure what to do.
    â€œWeet, weet!” Dillon squealed and pointed toward the window.
    â€œYou betcha.” Guy smiled and repositioned the boy to face the wide pane of glass and the oversize birdbath outside that held his attention. “He’s happy, so we’ll wait right here.” He tipped his head toward the waiting nurse. “Go.”
    Abby let the bag fall back on the floor and turned away. Her low heels tapped a rapid beat against the linoleum floor as she hurried to learn the condition of her mother. After she disappeared through the gray swinging doors, Guy carried Dillon for a closer look at the pair of daredevil mockingbirds at play.
    Twenty minutes later she was back. Her fair skin had lost its appealing color. She pinched her bottom lip between her teeth and wrapped her arms across her torso, as if holding in what strength she had left. Dillon’s head had slumped to Guy’s shoulder, heavy with the need for a nap. Guy folded himself into a nearby chair and motioned for Abby to join him. She collapsed on the next seat and accepted her sleeping boy.
    â€œHer hip’s broken,” her voice quavered. “It’s called a spontaneous fracture.” She dipped her face to kiss Dillon’s head,