I ran back to the screen door and called in, “Hey, Ani, I think Arnold needs a drink of water.”
I let the dog into the house and dropped his leash, and I swear he shot me a pissed-off look. I ignored him and took a seat on a stool next to her. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing for you to worry about, okay? Go. Shoo.” She waved her hand at me.
I touched her arm and made her face me. “I know something’s wrong.”
“It’s all good.”
I nudged her elbow. “Come on. Out with it.”
“Youdefinitelydo not want to be involved with this one.”
My brain knew that. But my feet kept coming back for more. “I’m a great problem solver. Tell me.”
“My first interview with Children’s Services is tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” I looked around at the empty house. I saw the problem.
“They’re coming to check out my house, to make sure it’s safe and ready. Only all my furniture has been delayed.” She glanced at her phone. “I think if I leave now, I can make it to Bob’s Furniture Emporium by eight. She started scrolling. “Let me see when they close.”
“Have you tried moving the interview?”
She shook her head solemnly. “They want to get the baby out of the hospital ASAP. I literally can’t say, ‘I want this baby, but I’m unprepared, and I have nothing in my house.’ No furniture. No baby things.Nothing.” She wrung her hands. “My friends are coming this weekend to help me shop. And I think Children’s Services might be okay with me saying it’ll take a few days to collect the baby stuff. But how am I going to get furniture in here tomorrow by four?” She paused. “Maybe I could buy a few things from Facebook Marketplace and use your truck to pick them up?” She put her head in her hands. “What was I thinking? This is all too much.”
“One more question. What about my mom’s house?”
“We agreed that the baby would stay here. It’s not fair to ask her to rearrange her entire house now.”
“I get it.” It was funny, but all my most dire warnings to not get involved dissolved into thin air when I saw her so upset. I was one second away from taking her into my arms, holding her, and telling her we’d somehow figure this out when we heard a tap on the door.
“Yoo hoo, anyone home?” came a sing-song voice.
Ani went pale. “Oh, not now,” she whispered.
I turned to see a sharply dressed woman at the screen door. As soon as she let herself in, I immediately recognized the resemblance to Ani—blond hair, but straight and smartly styled, not curly like Ani’s; the same pale blue eyes except she looked like she’d stepped out of a fashion catalog for wealthy older women; tidy, wrinkle-free ankle jeans with a crease; red flats, red nails, elegant makeup.
“Oh good, you’re home from work,” she said to Ani, her tone clipped. “I had a hospital board meeting, and everyone was talking about Dr. Green. Apparently, I’m the last person in town to know that my single daughter is about to adopt a baby.”
Uh oh. This was trouble. Because this woman hadn’t even acknowledged me yet.
I kept thinking of what my mom had said.Parents were big donors. Embarrassed by the wedding fiasco.And of course, they’d put a weeping wreck of an almost-bride on that plane. I had to admit, I wasn’t pre-programmed to like Ani’s mom.
“There’s been a lot going on, Mom,” Ani said. “Come in and I’ll catch you up. And meet my friend, Adam.”
There was thatfriendword again, which tended to never sit right with me. Ani’s mom gave me a quick perusal. “Oh, hi, Dr. Lowenstein. I recognize you from your photo in the hospital newsletter a few weeks ago. Welcome to Oak Bluff.” She extended her hand. “I’m Julia Green. I just got the auxiliary to sign off on new otoscopes for your ER.”
I stood up and greeted her. “You’re the president of the board, aren’t you? Thank you very much for that. We really needed the update in technology.” I smiled and reached out to shake her hand. She had a firm handshake. Okay, so maybe she wasn’t a blonde version of Maleficent after all. But I still wasn’t completely sold.
“Adam’s here to give Arnold a good workout,” Ani said. I think to give me an escape route.
“Please, don’t let us stop you,” Ani’s mom said to me. Then she turned back to her daughter. “This is an enormous decision. And you’ve made it all by yourself?”
Ani stiffened. “Well, Mom, the last time I checked, I was a full adult.”
“One who just might be prone to making impulsive decisions.”
Okay, I’d been officially sidelined, but I was never good at taking the hint anyway. I cleared my throat and smiled at Ani, trying to send her support vibes across the few feet between us. “Ani and I were working together in the ER when a teenager arrived in active labor. Ani delivered the baby.”
