Holly's Story

by Lurlene McDaniel

  Raina entered the labor room, where a young woman was experiencing advanced labor. Usually, a husband or boyfriend was with the mother-to-be, but this woman had only the midwife.

  Cathy said, “She’s had an epidural. The baby’s coming fast and we won’t make it to the delivery room.”

  An epidural meant that the lower half of the patient’s body had been anesthetized. “What can I do?” Raina asked.

  “Glove up. As soon as this little guy’s born, I’ll hand him off to you. Take him over to that isolette”—she pointed to a clear plastic bassinet on the other side of the room—“and make sure he stays warm. As soon as I take care of the mother, I’ll come clean him up.”

  Raina had never seen a baby being born, and couldn’t see much now because the midwife told her to stand behind her, but she heard the young mother moaning and heard Cathy say, “I see his head! Push, Sandra. Push hard.”

  Seconds later, Raina heard a baby’s wail.

  “A beautiful boy,” Cathy said. She clamped off the umbilical cord, turned and handed the squalling, bloodied baby to Raina.

  Raina rushed the infant to the isolette, placed him gently on the pile of clean cloth and turned on the warming light attached to the side. He kept crying and kicking, as if angry about being ejected from his cocoon of dark warmth into the cold, too-bright world. She wrapped him in a blanket, as she’d been taught, and he quieted. His wide-open eyes were the familiar slate gray of all newborns’ eyes, and as he stared up at her, she thought of the infant who had died in her arms. Unlike that baby, this little guy looked whole and perfect. “Welcome to life,” she whispered, feeling an elation she had not experienced for a long, long time.

  Holly and Chad walked barefoot and hand in hand along the beach behind the hotel. Light spilled from the windows and music floated from the sprawling tiled patio where couples danced and lounged. A full moon left a path of light on the calm water and small waves flowed in, tugged at the sand, flowed back. “I always plan to live near the ocean,” Chad said. “How about you?”

  “I’ve never lived anyplace except Tampa, but I’m pretty sure I won’t be anyplace where it snows.”

  “You don’t like snow?”

  “Not especially. Give me the beach anytime.”

  “When I die, I want to be buried at sea,” he said absently.

  She had no response, realizing that he’d given the idea some thought. How many kids their age had? She faced the salt water, studied the wide, brilliant path of light the moonlight made. “Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we could walk on that strip of water and right up onto the moon?”

  “Yes,” Chad said. “It would be wonderful. If I could walk there with you.”

  She looked up at him, at the planes of his face swathed in the light. His eyes were dark pools. Curls of his black hair spilled onto his forehead. Her heartbeat quickened. “It’s a long walk to the moon,” she said, her voice barely a whisper.

  “Not nearly long enough, if we’re going there together.”

  He cupped her face between the palms of his hands. His skin felt warm and made her cheeks hot. He bent down, and hesitated for only a moment. Her heart had gone crazy, pounding so loudly in her ears that it drowned out the sound of the sea. She rose on bare tiptoes, closed her eyes and received his mouth as it closed softly over hers. The taste of him was sweet and filled her senses like the heady scent of the roses pinned to her dress. His lips lingered and she raised her arms, wrapped them around his neck, pressed him closer. Her last coherent thought was that Kathleen had been wrong—the first kiss wasn’t the hardest. It was the most wonderful.

  The long white limo drove Holly and her friends home after breakfast at the lake house. Holly didn’t remember the ride; she was asleep, curled up on the seat in Chad’s arms. She only remembered being gently shaken awake. “You’re home,” Chad whispered in her ear.

  “Already?” She stretched lazily.

  The driver opened the door, and Holly poked Kathleen and Carson, wound around each other like sleeping puppies on the other seat, and said goodbye. Outside, the air was humid and her eyes had to adjust to the sunny morning light. A car she didn’t recognize was in her driveway. Chad walked her to the door, kissed her lightly and said, “I’ll call later today.” She went inside, still dreamy, half-asleep. In the foyer, she saw her parents, and with them, a man. He looked familiar, but why?

  Her father said, “Holly, you remember Detective Gosso?”

  Holly’s mind snapped awake and she was fully alert. “I remember.”

  The detective looked somber but also satisfied. He said, “I came to tell your family that we’ve caught the man who killed your brother.”

  twenty-one

  THE MAN’S NAME was Jerry Collins. He was twenty-two and had spent most of his life in and out of trouble with the law. His juvenile rap sheet was “as long as your arm,” according to Gosso, but the law had never been able to keep him under lock and key—until now. According to the detective, Collins had fled the area after the killing and had only recently returned. He’d been arrested during a burglary, and a routine check of his prints revealed his record and also his presence at the restaurant.

  “Our team has spent many hours putting together a case against this perp concerning your brother’s killing. When I started laying it out for him, he confessed,” Gosso told Holly’s family. “Said he was coming off a high and looking for money for another fix. He never showed an ounce of remorse.”

  “What happens now?” Mike asked.

  “He’ll be arraigned. The DA’s charging him with murder—a capital offense.”

  Evelyn glanced at Mike. “The death penalty?”

  “It’s on the table, but it will be up to a jury. He’ll have a court-appointed attorney. Don’t expect his trial to happen quickly,” he added.

  “Do you know when he’ll be arraigned?”

  “I’ll call you as soon as I know.”

  Evelyn squared her jaw. “We’ll go to the arraignment. I want to see this animal who murdered our son.”

  Holly looked at her mother’s face, saw determination there, saw her father put his arm around her shoulders.

  “Just let us know when,” he said.

  Gosso nodded. “I will.”

  Collins was arraigned on the first Wednesday in May, when Holly had less than two weeks of school remaining. She’d announced that she wanted to go to the courthouse also, even though it meant missing Senior Fun Day. Raina and Kathleen came too. “For moral support,” Kathleen said.

  “For justice,” Raina said, her eyes full of hurt.

  The government building was awash with people, all there on some kind of business or other. The courtroom, one of five, was crowded with spectators who changed continuously as their relatives’ or friends’ cases were called before the judge sitting high up at a dark wooden desk. Behind him on the wall was the seal of the State of Florida; on either side were flags of the United States and Florida.

  Detective Gosso showed up and sat with Holly and her family and friends on the spectators’ benches near the front of the courtroom. “This may take a while,” he explained. “The judge has a full docket.”

  “We’ll wait,” Evelyn said, her eyes bright with unshed tears.

  Raina looked pale; Kathleen, subdued. Holly sat shoulder to shoulder with her parents, feeling as if they were a solid wall, braced for the ordeal ahead.

  People charged with crimes passed before the judge in a monotonous stream, all with attorneys to speak for them. Holly thought the judge looked bored. And then the clerk announced a number and Gosso sat up straighter. Holly’s heart heaved as a man was led into the room. Jerry Collins wore a bright orange jumpsuit and manacles on his wrists and ankles. His head had been shaved and only a dark stubble remained. His attorney, a young man in a rumpled suit, stood with him. On the other side of the room stood a tall woman in a business suit. “The prosecutor,” Gosso whispered.

  The clerk read the charges: burglary and murder in the
second degree.

  “How do you plead?” the judge asked.

  “Not guilty,” Collins’s attorney said.

  “Routine. Standard,” Gosso told the Harrisons when they looked at him.

  The prosecutor said, “The state recommends no bail, Your Honor. Mr. Collins is a flight risk.”

  “So ordered.” The judge banged his gavel. “Next case.”

  Collins was led out. Holly felt cheated. She’d wanted him to beg for his life. At the door, Collins glanced out into the courtroom. Holly glared at him. He was thin, wasted-looking, but what struck her most was that his eyes looked dead. And then he was gone.

  “That’s it?” Raina asked.

  “For now,” Gosso said. He walked them out into the hall.

  A reporter materialized, but Gosso waved her away. “Give these people some peace,” he barked. “Come back when the perp goes to trial.”

  The reporter scowled, but backed away.

  Mike shook the detective’s hand. “We appreciate all you’ve done. I know you didn’t have to come here today.”

  “I wanted to. I’ve been a detective for twelve years and I’ve put a lot of bad guys away. But in 2001, I lost my brother, a fireman, in the World Trade Center when the second tower fell. Until then I never knew what it was like to be a victim. You feel helpless and angry. You just want to take the bad guy down, but you can’t.” Gosso’s gaze turned sorrowful. “I wanted to get this one for you. For your son.”

  “Thank you,” Evelyn said.

  Holly watched him walk away.

  She blinked in the harsh light of the afternoon sun when they came out of the building. The whole arraignment seemed anticlimactic. Holly felt adrift, aimless. “Now what?” she asked.

  “Let’s go have pizza,” Mike said.

  “I don’t—” Evelyn started.

  “We all need to eat.” He ushered the whole group to his SUV and drove to a pizza parlor, once a favorite haunt of Hunter’s, in their part of town. The wonderful smells made Holly realize that she was hungry, and once they had settled in a booth and ordered, she began to feel less numb. Raina began to look more relaxed, as did Holly’s parents, and Kathleen less scared.

  When the pizzas came, they ate and talked, sharing stories about Hunter, memories of him as a child, a boyfriend, a brother, a friend. They laughed, they cried. And magically, the strain of the day lifted. The image of the courtroom, and of the villain who had changed their lives, began to fade. In its place were the warm, sweet memories of the boy they had all loved. And so tragically lost.

  On Saturday, Kathleen was at work in the gift shop with Bree, setting out floral arrangements for delivery, when Carson hurried in looking for her. Kathleen beamed at him, but his face was serious. “What’s wrong?”

  “Um—we need to talk.”

  “Can it wait until I get off?”

  “I’d rather talk right now.” He glanced at Bree. “In private.”

  Bree shrugged, gave an affirming smile. “Go on. I can handle things here.”

  Kathleen felt growing concern as she walked with Carson into the hospital’s huge atrium. He wouldn’t have insisted unless something important was going on. He found a small table in the coffee bar and sat her down. He licked his lips. “I’ve just come up from the ER.”

  Her heart thudded with dread. “Go on.”

  “Steffie was in a car wreck. She hit a tree and went through the windshield.”

  “Oh no! How is she?”

  “Alive, but cut up pretty badly.”

  Kathleen saw the concern in Carson’s eyes. She wouldn’t have wished a car wreck on anyone, not even Stephanie Marlow. “Did the ER call you?”

  “Steffie asked them to call my mother, and Mom called me. Her parents aren’t around. I guess there wasn’t anyone else to call.”

  “That’s so sad.”

  Carson shook his head in disgust. “She was almost hysterical. I calmed her down as best I could, but she’s still pretty scared. She could have called her agent, but she doesn’t want her to know about the accident yet. Not until the plastic surgeon stitches her up.”

  Kathleen realized how serious the accident was for the girl. Her face was her fortune. “How bad is it?”

  “Her nose is broken and there are lots of cuts on her face, some pretty deep. Mom called one of her doctor friends—she says he’s the best. I left when he came in.” Carson brooded. “It was a stupid accident.”

  “Do you know how it happened?”

  “The police said she was alone, coming home from an all-night party. She’d been drinking, took a corner too fast, skidded, hit a tree. Really stupid of her. To drink and drive,” he said. “The cops are going to charge her.”

  Kathleen wondered if he had taken the leap to understanding that he had often done the same thing and that this might have happened to him too. “Was she wearing a seat belt?”

  He shook his head. “Another dumb call.”

  “I hope she’ll be all right.”

  Carson searched her face. “So you’re not mad at me for going to see her?”

  “No way. Why would you ask such a thing?”

  He looked relieved, and she realized how troubled he was about coming to tell her. “I—um—just didn’t want you to be upset.”

  She reached across the table, grabbed his hand. “You did the right thing. It’s okay. She needs a friend.” And as she said the words, she knew it was true. She wasn’t jealous of Stephanie anymore. Whatever had happened between the girl and Carson was long gone and in the past.

  He relaxed and flashed one of his sexy smiles. “I know girls who would have gloated.”

  “Pathetic.”

  They sat silently with the sounds of the hospital all around them. She thought about how much she liked him, and what a difference he’d made in her life.

  He finally asked, “So, are you busy tonight?”

  “Depends on who’s asking.”

  He traced a line down the length of her arm with a finger, raising goose bumps on her skin. “Just me is asking.”

  “I’m yours,” she said lightly, loading the words with a double meaning.

  He winked. “I was the one who figured that out first, you know.”

  “You say,” she answered coyly, without even a hint of self-consciousness.

  With only days to go before the end of the school year and graduation, seniors didn’t bother to attend classes past noon. Holly went to the hospital, not because she had to go for credit—she’d already earned that—but because she’d learned that Ben’s treatment program had failed and that he’d been removed from all treatment except pain management. Medical science had failed, and Ben Keller, age eight, was dying.

  twenty-two

  BEN HAD BEEN moved into a more private area of the hospital, away from the hustle and bustle of his floor. His mother stayed with him round the clock. Relatives, neighbors, members of his family’s church came to visit, and so did Holly. She wondered if Ben really knew what was happening to him. He slept a lot, ate little, seemed genuinely pleased and surprised to see the people who showed up. “No one’s to say a sad word around him,” Beth-Ann told all visitors sternly. “And no crying either. If you can’t keep your feelings inside, then leave the room.”

  On one of Holly’s visits, she found Beth-Ann standing in the hall and asked, “Is there really nothing more the doctors can do?”

  “That’s what they said.”

  “But even now, if he was taking chemo—”

  “Wouldn’t help any, and his daddy and I are real tired of seeing Benny suffer, of his being in pain all the time. That’s not right. Us hanging on to him will only cause him more pain. He should be able to go in peace.”

  Tears welled in Holly’s eyes, and Beth-Ann reached out for her. “It’s his time, Holly. The Bible says there’s a season for everything, and the season of Ben’s life is ending. He’s going home to be with Jesus. We have to let him go.”

  Holly understood all that. She knew that
the faith of the Kellers was sustaining them, helping them come to terms with losing their child. She was glad for them, but for the life of her, she couldn’t understand why Jesus needed a little boy in heaven. Or, for that matter, a big boy like Hunter. Heaven should be full of old people after they’d lived full lives on earth. Maybe some last-minute miracle would happen and spare Ben’s life. That would make her feel good about God again!

  “It’s all right,” Beth-Ann assured Holly in her soft Southern voice. “God knows best.”

  Holly didn’t say what she really wanted to say about God being arbitrary. She just nodded and left the area.

  The next evening, Holly ate a late supper in the cafeteria with Raina and Kathleen. They were trying to take her mind off what was happening to Ben. “Can you believe we’re graduating tomorrow?” Kathleen asked.

  The ceremony was to be held Saturday morning at the civic center.

  “Not soon enough for me,” Raina said. “I just made it out by the skin of my teeth, thanks to Holly.”

  “What?” Holly, distracted and toying with the food on her plate, looked up. “Did you ask me something?”

  “I was giving you rave reviews on getting me to my diploma. Want me to say it again?”

  Holly shook her head. “You worked hard. You deserve to walk.”

  “What are you doing after the pool party?” Kathleen asked.

  Raina’s mother was throwing a little get-together at the town house complex for some of the grads, their parents and a few close friends. “Celebration dinner with Mom at the Columbia,” Raina said. “Want to come? Might keep the air from snapping between us.”

  “I thought things had smoothed out between you two.”

  “So much is different now.” Raina shrugged, unable to put her feelings into words. “Can you come to dinner? Bring your mom and Stewart. Carson too.”