Death By Intention, Page 2

  Chapter 2

  James walked over to the garage and unlocked the side door. He reached inside and pushed the automatic opener on the wall. The garage light came on and shone on James’ pride and joy. There sat a 1954 Chevrolet, 5 window cab, ½ ton pickup truck. Affectionately known as “Barney”, the truck represented hours of satisfying labor. James replaced the old 6 volt system with a new 12 volt system, redid the wooden truck bed with new oak, overhauled the engine, recovered the upholstery on the seats, rewired the whole electrical system, re-chromed the front grill, and painted the truck the original forest green color fresh from the factory in Detroit. The other doctors teased him about it all the time. They could not understand why he did not have a Lexus, Mercedes, or a Porsche. James just could not see one of them on a farm. Besides, Barney remained a work truck. With the 4-speed transmission including the special, optional “granny gear”, and low gear ratios, the truck worked perfectly as a stump puller, lumber hauler, and all around odd jobber. James could think of no vehicle he would like more. It was great fun to bounce around over rough pastures and dirt roads. Besides, in terms of stewardship, he could afford to redo his truck 3 or 4 times over for the cost of a single automobile. He could never get enough of driving trucks and loved shifting gears. Sara especially loved to take the truck out with hay for her pony Abe and sit on James lap to drive.

  James climbed inside and fired up the engine. It ran like a charm, and, in a cloud of condensed exhaust vapor, he headed to town for his preoperative visits.

  “I just don’t get this mysterious death of Mary O’Brien. Young, healthy women just don’t die in their beds,” James muttered. “I wonder if Don got a drug screen on her admission? I suppose I am being too suspicious. A hold over from my residency days I suppose.” James inner city OB/GYN residency taught him to expect the unexpected and to rule out illicit drugs as a cause of problems in any puzzling case. James continued to himself, “We’ll need to look at drugs as a possibility, though. Oh well.” James sighed. “I’ll talk to Don between cases.”

  James wheeled into the parking lot of the St Francis Hospital. The hospital recently had been renovated and really looked beautiful on its site near the banks of het New Bedford River. The front of the hospital grounds commanded a sweeping view of the New Bedford River while the back nestled up against the mountain behind it. The trees ran down behind to the neatly kept grounds. The hospital was run by the Sisters of St. Clair head by Sister Mary Rosarita.

  James cut the engine, clambered out, and walked in the rear entrance. He loved arriving early to get a fresh start on the day. Few of the other doctors arrived much before 8 o’clock but he liked to be in by 6:30 to 7:00 o’clock at the latest. James climbed up to the second floor and began his rounds. He visited with Mrs. Steuben, Mrs. Kenton, and Mrs. Johnson. He even had a chance to pray with Joe Johnson who was sober for a change and encouraged him to seek help with AA or with himself. Few people knew that James beat alcoholism himself while in medical school with Abbey’s and God’s help. He had been sober now for over 10 years. He daily thanked the Lord for his sobriety and his wonderful wife.

  Joe agreed to come to the AA meeting at James’ church that Wednesday night. James assured Joe that he would pick him up and drive him to the meeting.

  James could not get Mary O’Brien out of his mind. He just could not piece together the death and the patient. Something did not seem to fit together for him. His battle with substance abuse himself made him acutely aware of when patients battled with demons. Mary did not impress him as an abuser. Still, perhaps he missed a clue to her possible abuse. Addicts and drunks were notoriously good at concealing things. They had to be to live their double lives.

  James did Mrs. Kenton’s hysterectomy without problems. He sat down in the recovery room to write his orders. The recovery room nurse Sandy Phillips walked over. She reminded him of a little bantam hen with her quick movements and her solicitous mothering of her postoperative patients.

  “The usual postop orders Dr P?” she asked.

  “Sure, except we need to watch her blood pressure. She’s been on a beta-blocker and I don’t want her pressure to go up. So, keep an eye on it for me will you?”

  “No problem. Hey, what do you think about poor Mary O’Brien? Kind of sad for her to leave that new baby and those little ones isn’t it?

  “Really is a shame, that is for sure Sandy. Did you know her?” asked James.

  “Yeah, we went to grade school and high school together. She always was a bit on the wild side and had plenty of male attention. How she ended up with that loser Sam O’Brien is beyond me. Mary could have had any boy she wanted. She was quite a looker in high school. Guess her bad behavior finally caught up with her, huh?” replied Sandy.

  “I suppose you’re right. I just don’t figure her with any medical problems. She never mentioned cardiac problems, chest pain, or any other medical problems in the clinic. I need to talk to Don about it,” replied James.

  James walked back to the doctors’ lounge and found Don Adams sitting reading the sports page in the Boston paper. Don, himself, and Oscar Rodriquez made up the partnership. Theirs was a relationship of contrasts with James the wry, tall, reserved one; Don the older, more rotund and jolly partner. Don also liked the business aspects of medicine and his innate shrewdness enabled them to profit well. Oscar made the third partner and he hailed from Los Angeles originally. As a first generation American, he felt very fortunate to be able to achieve the American dream of escaping the barrios and living in rural America. Oscar was the swarthy, Latin type but spoke perfect English. He brought an unreserved enthusiasm to the practice and the patients adored Oscar. In fact, they were doing so well the three partners anticipated a fourth OB doctor in another year or two.

  “Hey, that is a tragic story about Mary O’Brien isn’t it, Don?” began James.

  “Huh? Oh yeah. I just delivered her day before yesterday. I never even knew she had a possible medical problem. She never mentioned any heart or other problems to me. I guess you just can’t figure everything out, can you?” said Don shaking his head. “I really feel bad for those kids with that worthless Sam O’Brien.”

  “I know what you mean. Mary never admitted to any medical problems to any of us. And as for her husband Sam, he isn’t abusive or anything. Lazy perhaps, but he loved his wife and those kids. I truly feel for him. I wonder what he is going to do for them now?”

  “Maybe the state will have to step in and see if he is a fit father. I know I wouldn’t put too much confidence in his ability to care for the kids. You know he has a problem with alcohol once in awhile,” returned Sam.

  “I know, but he really loves his kids. I think I’ll see if his new baby is gone home yet or if he needs some help.”

  “You’re too much James. I swear you and Abbey would take in every stray dog, cat, or kid in the county.”

  “You’ve got a point,” laughed James ruefully. “We just take seriously what Jesus said about helping those who are in need. The apostle James in James 1:27 says, ‘Pure and undefiled religion before God and the Father is this: to visit orphans and widows in their trouble and to keep oneself unspotted from the world.’ I’ll see you later.”

  “Yeah, okay. I need to get back to work before you get warmed up and start a sermon,” joked Don. His partner believed that religion was alright in its place but talking about it in public made him nervous. James prayed for his salvation persistently.

  “Before you go Don, did you happen to get a urinalysis on Mary for any reason at admission? I was hoping there’d be some left for a possible drug screen or toxicology.”

  “Nope James. Only got a urinalysis on admission to rule out bacteriuria and protein. I bet they pitched the urine already since it was clean on admission. I guess you could check.”

  “Yeah, okay. I’ll do that. Thanks,” returned James.

  The conversation did n
othing to enlighten James. In fact, talking with Don just raised more questions. Why had they all missed a possible medical problem, and, was there another answer? James did not like to think along those lines but know that things are not always as they seemed. James called the lab to see if they kept any of Mary’s admission urine. The lab tech, Bob Tuttle, said they had already disposed of the urine sample since it was a routine, clean sample for admission to L&D. James thanked him for the information.

  James walked up to the nursery and found the O’Brien baby still in the hospital but Sam nowhere to be found. Nancy Smith, the charge nurse on the mother-baby unit, informed James that Sam O’Brien had not been in since his wife’s death the day before. James supposed Sam had a lot to do before he could think about taking a newborn home with him.

  James wandered to the cafeteria. He saw Sister Mary Rosarita sitting a table working on some paperwork. James grabbed a cup of decaf coffee and sauntered over to her table.

  “Good morning sister. How are you this beautiful spring day that the Lord has given us?”

  “Dr Phelan. How are you? Won’t you join me for a short time. I am weary of these ledgers anyway. I sometimes think this is my penance for all my wicked times as a child!” Sister Mary Rosarita exclaimed ruefully. So, what’s on your mind doctor?”

  “Nothing much,” James replied innocently.

  “Oh, and you just happened to be in the cafeteria, see me, and decided to sit down. I am a nun, not stupid, Dr Phelan. What is troubling you?” asked Sister.

  James admired this tough, Godly woman who ran St Francis Hospital. Sister had been a nun for over 40 years, most of them as a missionary nurse in Africa. Due to her age and skills, she had been called to run St Francis five years ago when the hospital had been in some financial difficulties. Her face was serene with an almost glow to her skin with eyes of purest blue. He’d seem them brimming with love for a lost soul and flash with fire as she dealt with a recalcitrant physician or nurse.

  She was one of the first people James met when he began his practice in New Bedford. IN spite of the previous Vatican edicts, she still wore the traditional, long black habit with a white wimple over her brow. Sister believed her clothing helped others identify her more readily and opened hearts to her. He knew her stories of Sister’s self-less love for the people of Africa and her heart of prayer. He’d spent many times with her in supplication for the Hospital and community. James opened up, “This death of Mary O’Brien is bothering me a lot. I just can’t pull all the pieces together. I helped take care of her and she never mentioned medical problems or a heart condition. I spoke to Dawn Watson, Mary’s nurse the night she died, and Dawn mentioned that they found some white powder by Mary’s bedside. Do you think Mary was a substance abuser? Did you know her and what do you think?”

  “Yes, I knew Mary quite well. I have been around her family for over 20 years off and on. I used to come home to the convent here in New Bedford for furloughs from my mission trips. On those furloughs I spent time ministering to the families in St Catherine’s parish. She attended St Catherine’s as a child but she most recently went to her husband’s church, I believe. Mary led somewhat of a wild and dissipative life and delivered a child out of wedlock before she met Sam O’Brien. Sam may not have been a paragon of virtue, but he loved Mary and those children. He even adopted Martha, Mary’s oldest daughter. Martha must be about ten now. It is going to be a very hard time on those children losing their mother with a new baby at home and the present situation. I am shocked you would mention possible drugs by the bedside. Dawn didn’t tell me about the possible drugs in the room at the bedside when we discussed the death. Mary was so happy and looking forward to going home today. Drug abuse does not make much sense to me.”

  “Perhaps Dawn felt so overwhelmed by the death she forgot to mention the bedside findings. The powder may be nothing but powered creamer or talcum for the new baby. This whole idea of Mary’s mysterious death and possible drug abuse is disturbing to me. I hope we get a quick autopsy done by the coroner. We need a good toxicology screen to see if she had any traces of drugs in her system,” responded James.

  At that moment his beeper sounded telling him to report to the OR. “Duty calls Sister. I’ll talk to you more later. I think I’ll talk to the coroner and maybe the police. This not making sense to me.”

  James rose and went to the preoperative holding area outside the operating rooms to see Mrs. Johnson before her laparoscopy for pain. He prayed with her and they wheeled her into the room. James performed the laparoscopy and found some small adhesions from the ovaries to the side walls of the pelvis. He took these down bluntly and sharply with his scissors. After the case, he met with Joe again and told him everything went well and they hopefully solved the problem. He reminded Joe about the AA meeting on Wednesday.

  James returned to the doctor’s lounge and sat down in a large overstuffed recliner. He tried to read the financial section of the newspaper but could not concentrate. The poor O’Brien family kept coming back to his mind. He’d talk to Abbey about it later and perhaps offer to take the children off Sam’s hands for a few days to allow him to bury his wife and get things together for his family. James’ beeper went off again. He sighed and got up. Time to fix up Mrs. Steuben’s bladder problem.

  Things went well in the operating room and they had Mrs. Steuben’s bladder tucked up for her urinary incontinence in 45 minutes. James followed into the recovery room, wrote his postoperative orders, and changed his clothes. He headed upstairs to see if Sam O’Brien had arrived yet. James wandered into the nursery and saw Sam holding his new son with tears running down his cheeks.

  Walking over to him, James gently placed his hand on Sam’s shoulder. Sam looked up and wiped the tears from his cheeks. Sam stood over six feet tall with broad shoulders and a plain, honest face. His hands were calloused from hard work. Sam had light brown hair with light grey eyes. He had barely managed to finish high school due to the need to support his mother and family. His father had abandoned them when Sam was fourteen, so he became responsible for placing food on the table.

  Sam looked very lost with this infant son in his arms. He greeted James, “Hi Dr Phelan. I just can’t believe she is gone. I love my new son but what am I gonna do now with Mary gone? I’ve got two other girls to take care of at home.”

  “I know Sam and I am so sorry about Mary. But Abbey and I would like you to know that the girls can stay with us as long as you like until you get things all settled. Sara would love the company. She and Elizabeth are good friends. Plus, Abbey loves company as well.”

  “You sure it wouldn’t be any trouble? That’d help take a load off my mind. I need to get the funeral arrangements made too. I don’t know exactly what to do with this little guy yet. I know he needs to go home but I haven’t got much there and I’m not the best with new little babies,” admitted Sam.

  “You just bring him over to our house. Abbey and the girls will spoil him rotten. I guess I have a couple of questions for you, though, Sam,” began James. “Did Mary have any medical problems she didn’t tell us about?”

  Sam thought for a moment. “No. She didn’t have no medical problems. Why did they have to put her death like that in the newspaper. The paper has me real upset! Some of the people here in the hospital even say she used drugs. She used some stuff back in high school but that was over 10 years ago. And I don’t think she ever used any hard drugs at all. Mostly she just smoked some marijuana a long time ago. Why did they say those things?”

  Sam’s mind seethed with anger at the people who clucked their sanctimonious tongues over Mary and their family. The grief he bore took a secondary place to his indignation over the besmirching of his dead wife’s reputation. Besides, he didn’t want his girls to think their mother was some sort of drug abuser. But, then, there was the baby to raise as well. Things remained so muddled in his mind that he mostly just felt
numb.

  James did not know how to answer the question. He had talked that morning to Dawn Watson, the nurse who took care of Mary O’Brien the night she died. Dawn told James they had found possible traces of drugs. Seemed like other people in the hospital already knew about the possible drug connection with Mary’s death. What should he say? James took a deep breath and began, “The nurses say they found traces of white powder near Mary’s bed. I think a formal autopsy would be good to help us find out how she died. What do you say?”

  “Do you think Mary was doin’ drugs, Doc? I just don’t believe it! I also need to know; will they cut her up bad for the autopsy, doc? I couldn’t bear that. And the kids, they wanted to see her one last time too,” pleaded Sam.

  “I don’t know about the drugs Sam. The powder by her bedside is suspicious but it could just be talcum powder or coffee creamer. And no, they will be very careful at the autopsy. You can still have an open casket type funeral if you like. I’ll get the autopsy forms and we’ll sign them. Don’t forget that the girls can come over to our house and bring the little guy too. What is his name?”

  With supreme mental effort, Sam pulled himself together and answered, “We were gonna call him ‘Samuel James’ after me and you. My wife really liked you and was disappointed you didn’t get to deliver her. I guess we better get this little one out of the hospital. You bring the forms and I’ll sign’em.”

  “OK Sam. I am very flattered you’d name your little guy after me,” responded James solemnly.

  James walked over to the nurses’ station and rummaged through the drawers to find an autopsy consent. Since they rarely did autopsies at St Francis from the obstetrical floor, he spent several minutes looking. He thought about Mary and Sam as he bent over the files. He had not told Sam everything. The powder found by her nurse on the side table was thought to be cocaine. It looked as though Mary had ingested the drugs and died from the over dose. But, according to the nurse, there were no traces of the substance near her nose or mouth. The nurses said Mary had used talcum powder on body after her shower that night. There were traces of talcum powder all over her body. Also, the sheriff’s department found no syringe for intravenous use or “skin popping”. If Mary used IV cocaine, there ought to be a syringe. If she inhaled cocaine, she ought to have traces near her nose. If she ingested or smoked cocaine, there ought to be traces on her lips in her mouth. Maybe not. Maybe she ingested the drugs and had enough time to lick her lips clean and empty her mouth. In that case, an autopsy ought to find traces of the drugs in her stomach and blood.

  James returned to have Sam sign the autopsy consent and helped him bundle up Sam junior. James did his final rounds on the postoperative patients who were all doing well. Mrs. Steuben reclined a virtual flower shop of floral arrangements, receiving visitors like a queen in court. She waved James away and told him “I feel marvelous. When do I leave this place?” James informed her she would be there several more days to “train her bladder” before going home.

  James next headed to meet Sam in the nursery to pick up “little Sam”. Mary had bought an outfit to take the baby home and brought it with her to the delivery. Nancy, the nurse, already had the infant dressed in the light-blue sleeper outfit with white trim. There was even a small cloth hat to place over the baby’s head. The hospital supplied a free “loaner” car seat to all parents so they put the baby on the bench seat of James’ truck and strapped him in with the seat belts to the truck. Part of James’ remodeling of the truck was the addition of seat belts to the truck. After signing out the baby and giving him to James, Sam went home to get his other girls and bring them out to the Phelan house. James revved up the Chevy truck and headed home. He picked up his car (truck) cellular phone (his one luxury he found a necessity for his truck) and called Abbey. He had already called her earlier at the hospital to arrange for the O’Brien girls to stay over for awhile.

  “Hey, honey, I am on my way home with the little surprise. Did you tell Sara yet?”

  “No, I thought we’d surprise her with the new baby when you arrive home. She does know that Elizabeth and Martha are coming over though. She is so excited. You know how she wants a little brother or sister. I told her she needed to talk to her father about that,” replied Abbey mischievously.

  “Oh great! So, now I have to reason with a five year old about how come she doesn’t have any siblings,” returned James. “Thanks a lot!”

  “Anytime honey. You’re on the cell phone aren’t you? Where are you now? Are the O’Brien’s heading over now as well?”

  “I am just leaving town so I am about 10 minutes away. Sam said he is going straight home to get the girls. I’ll see you then. Love you.”

  “Love you too. Bye,” answered Abbey ending the call.

  James sighed. He wanted other children too but he wasn’t sure he could go through another pregnancy like the last one. Abbey had placenta covering her cervical opening the whole pregnancy. She had bled with spotting almost the whole time and had finally delivered at 34 ½ weeks by emergency c-section. James could never forget being awakened in a warm flood of blood with Abbey shaking him desperately. The nightmarish ride through the darkened streets to the hospital in their car while Abbey bled appeared in his dreams for almost a year after the fact. He had almost lost both Abbey and Sara.

  Due to her bleeding, Abbey needed 6 units of packed red blood cells transfused along with clotting factors and platelets, was infected after the emergency delivery, treated with intravenous antibiotics for a week, and took almost four weeks to recover some semblance of normalcy. In fact, she’d been so ill initially that she did not see Sara for her first three days of life. The six weeks Sara spent in the neonatal intensive care unit (NICU) after the delivery didn’t excite him either. His “little sweet pea” was intubated for over a week and quite ill in the NICU for over 2 weeks. It had been touch and go for awhile. The thought of another baby possibly in the NICU on a ventilator with a central venous line and extremely ill, did not appeal to him much. He wasn’t sure he was ready yet. In spite of all the previous pregnancy’s complications, Abbey desperately wanted another baby. No, several other babies, and, Sara was crazy about little ones. James sighed again. He felt guilty about all this but he just had trouble turning it over to the Lord. He shook his head as he turned down the road to home. “Guess I just need to trust you more God,” said James with a shrug. He swung into the driveway. Zeke bounded out to meet him with a frenzy of barking, licking, and general enthusiasm. Sara flew out the door and flung herself into his arms.

  “Daddy, you’re home! Elizabeth and Martha are coming to visit us! Are they going to stay for awhile?” asked Sara breathlessly.

  “I heard they are coming to visit. We think they are going to stay with us for a little bit since their mother died. Did you have fun today?” responded James tactfully switching subjects.

  “We had a lot of fun. Mommy and I planted some lettuce and radishes. And she said tomorrow I can help put some potatoes and onions in the garden!” said Sara enthusiastically. “What did you do today, Daddy?”

  “Let’s see. I did a hysterectomy, a laparoscopy, and a bladder surgery.”

  “Did you have fun? Was there lots of blood today?” inquired Sara with typical serious interest.

  “No. There was not much blood sweet pea,” laughed James. “I sometimes think you’d be a better doctor than me. I’ve got a surprise for you in the truck. Why don’t you take a look inside?”

  Sara jumped out of his arms and ran up to the passenger side of the truck, grabbed the side view mirror arm, climbed up on the running board, and looked through the side window inside.

  “It’s a baby!” squealed Sara. “Is it ours to keep Daddy? I want one you know!”

  “I know, I know! I hear it at least ten times a week how you want a brother or sister. This is Elizabeth’s and Martha’s little brother, Sam. He may be staying with
us for awhile. What do you think of him?” asked James.

  “He’s really cute! It’d be great to have him around! My very own little brother to play with for awhile! Let’s go show Mommy!” exclaimed Sara.

  “Okay. Let’s go inside and see your mother. You can make sure everything is ready for dinner with the O’Brien’s.”

  James carried little Sam inside in his car seat/carrier. Zeke came over to investigate. James held the sleeping baby down for Zeke to see and smell. The big lab gently put his nose into the carrier and sniffed at Sam. He thoroughly investigated Sam with his nose and gave a low “woof” of acceptance. From now on, little Sam was one of Zeke’s family too. James walked to the porch and Sara opened up the back door. James walked over to Abbey. Abbey turned and smiled at him.

  “Oh look at this little person! He is so cute and sweet! James, you didn’t tell me he was so beautiful! Isn’t he a doll Sara?” cooed Abbey. She took the infant car seat and set in on the counter. Abbey gently took little Sam out and held him for Sara to admire. Little Sam slept blithely through all the fuss.

  James leaned over and kissed Abbey’s neck.

  “Missed you a lot today. What have you got cooking there? Anything I can help you do for dinner,” asked James. He loved to cook too, especially the “taste testing” parts!

  “I thought we’d keep it simple and have spaghetti, garlic bread, green salad, and peas. I baked a chocolate cake for dessert too,” replied Abbey.

  “I frosted it!” chimed in Sara.

  “You sure did, sweetie. Is the table set yet?” asked Abbey.

  “Almost done Mommy. I just need to finish with the napkins,” said Sara.

  “I’ll go change and come out to help finish up with dinner while you ooh an ahh over little Samuel. The O’Brien’s ought to be here any time,” added James.

  “That’d be great honey. I just have to pop the peas into the microwave, the garlic bread in the oven to warm, and finish up tossing the salad,” responded Abbey.

  James wandered back to their bedroom and changed into some casual slacks and a flannel long sleeve shirt. He rolled up the sleeves on his shirt and threw on his deck shoes. He next washed his hands thoroughly since he had been at the hospital all day and wanted to make sure he got off all the hospital grime. He made his way back to the kitchen. Abbey had already had all the salad makings on the counter for him. James grabbed the lettuce, washed it off, and began tearing the leaves to put into the big wooden walnut salad bowl. The walnut bowl had been a wedding present from their folks. He tore the lettuce and placed it into the bowl. He took the knife and chopped up the mushrooms, carrots, red bell peppers, radishes, and celery. He then garnished it on top with freshly grown alfalfa sprouts and sliced tomatoes.

  As he finished, he hear Zeke barking and a car drive up to the house. The O’Brien’s had arrived in a cloud of dust and blue smoke. The old Oldsmobile Sam drove belched vast clouds of oily smelling, blue smoke due to the engine’s rings needing attention. They couldn’t afford the repair bills, so the old car just continued to run with more and thicker blue smoke. Sam said after over 400,000 miles that it ran on “quarts of oil per mile”. As the care lurched to a stop, it released a thunderous backfire that rattled the windows. The baby startled and began to cry. Sara flew from the kitchen racing out the back door and letting shut with a loud bang.

  “Looks like they are here. I’ll put this salad on the table, pop the garlic bread in the oven, and the peas into the microwave,” said James over the wailing Sam.

  “Thanks. I’ll calm this little guy down, check his diaper, and warm up some of the formula from the bottle in the diaper bag,” returned Abbey over the crying baby.

  Sara rushed into the kitchen with Elizabeth tightly in tow. Elizabeth looked like a china doll with fine features and a sprinkle of freckles over her nose. Her long red hair was carefully brushed and tied back in a French braid with a green bow. She was five years old like Sara. Behind her came her older sister Martha. Martha was sandwiched in that awkward stage of preadolescence and looked mostly thin arms and legs. She had her mother Mary’s delicate features as well but had hair of shiny raven black. Her hair sat piled on top of her head in a coiled bun with a red bow placed on the top. Her face looked pinched and her eyes red from crying.

  Abbey saw them and handed James little Sam. She swept both Martha and Elizabeth up into her arms fussing over them like a mother hen with her little chicks. James had to admit that Abbey had the gift with children. She soon had them both smiling as she helped them change the diaper and warm up Sam’s bottle. Sara could hardly stand still she was so excited to have them at her house. She literally danced around with the anticipation of the moment.

  Sam senior came in the door with a large burlap sack in his hands.

  “Knew you had a fire place so I brought ya some fat wood for startin’ fires. We got a lot up at our place and figured you could use some,” shared Sam gruffly.

  “Man are you right! Sara told me all I know how is to burn up newspaper and make smoke! Why don’t you put that here in the family room in the wood box for me? We can use it later to start a fire after dinner,” responded James.

  Sam went to put the wood in the family room and James turned to the garlic bread and peas. They were almost done. He decided the time had come for everyone to wash up their hands.

  “Sara why don’t you take Martha and Elizabeth down the hall to the guest room bath to wash up so we can have dinner?” requested James.

  “Okay Daddy. Let’s go and wash up. We can play with my dolls later,” said Sara.