by Rachel Lee
Memorial Hospital’s lights were a welcome sight. She found a parking place near the emergency entrance and hurried inside. Ice everywhere. Damn.
Once inside, the reception desk didn’t give her any problem. “I’m here for Regina McLane,” she told a woman she thought she knew but couldn’t place in the stress of the moment. “Abby Jason.”
“Yes, Mr. McLane said you were coming. Head straight back, make a right and you’ll find him on the left.”
She hurried back, avoiding carts and scurrying people, and spied Rory through an open door. He was sitting on a plastic chair beside an open curtain, on the other side of which was an empty gurney. There was a big space, empty now, a space he was staring at. They must have taken Regina somewhere else.
“Rory?”
He looked up. She was shocked by how careworn he looked. He appeared to have aged ten years. “Thanks for coming.”
She went straight to him and bent over to hug him. He raised his arms and wrapped them around her waist. “Regina?” she asked.
“Out for more tests. But it gets worse.”
She sagged against the empty gurney. “Worse? How?”
“Icy roads, four-car pile-up. They think Regina’s going to need surgery, but all their suites are full of seriously injured people and all the surgeons have their hands full.”
Abby thought her legs might give way. She gripped the edge of the gurney. “Oh, my God.”
“They suspect a ruptured appendix. They’re making sure. I don’t know what then.”
For a few seconds the room seemed to spin around Abby. Collecting herself with difficulty, she grabbed the plastic chair from beside the gurney and moved it over to sit next to Rory. Immediately he clasped her hand.
“Thanks for coming. It’s more than her mother was willing to do.”
She took the bitterness for what it was. Rory was terrified for his daughter, and seeking some other outlet for the tsunami that was drowning him. “She’s a long way away.”
“Bull,” he said succinctly. “She can hire a plane. She could be here in a couple of hours. Call her when it’s over?” He swore.
“Maybe she can’t handle hospitals.”
“Maybe she can’t handle anything except what she wants.”
Abby ached so badly that she had to fight back tears of anguish. Rory, his daughter... She was overwhelmed by what was happening to them, by the inability to help, by her own concerns for both of them. Everything else that had once loomed so large on her horizon vanished as if it had never been.
They heard wheels and feet in the hall. Soon two people pushed a gurney through the door with Regina on it. She was on an IV. As soon as she reentered the room they hooked her back up to the heart monitor and automatic blood pressure cuff. Rory stood, Abby pushed herself out of the way.
“What...” Rory began.
A nice man in scrubs touched his arm. “I can’t tell you anything. A doctor will be in soon. Meanwhile, we’ll keep your daughter comfortable.”
Just then Regina muttered, “Sick.” The subsequent sound was unmistakable. His arm shooting out like a snake, Rory grabbed the front of his daughter’s hospital gown and yanked her upright and a little forward as she vomited. There wasn’t much, but the retching seemed to go on forever.
Immediately a nurse was there, that same one who had just left them. He wiped the girl’s mouth, then the sheet vanished, replaced by a fresh green one. “We’re working on getting her bumped up in the surgery queue,” he said. “We’re working on it. But the auto accident. Surgeons can’t pull out in the middle of an operation.”
“I get it,” Rory said tensely.
“We’re hoping to find that one of the accident victims can wait a little while...”
“Okay.” The word was clipped, tight.
The nurse paused. “Your daughter may not appear awake, Mr. McLane, but she can hear you. Keep talking to her.”
Rory took his daughter’s hand. At first he talked about what kind of horse she might want and about the coming holidays, about how beautiful she would make the house for them all. After a while, as if he didn’t know what else to say, he started to sing to her.
Abby listened to him, realizing he was singing happy songs, among them the song Regina had written for him. Then some chatter about Rally and how he was looking forward to running with her just as soon as she came home. Then back to singing.
Abby pushed the chair away and stood behind him, rubbing his shoulders, tearing her gaze from Regina occasionally to glance at the monitor. Heartbeat and blood pressure registered there, and as the time crept by, she didn’t like that the blood pressure kept falling. Little by little it kept creeping down. She was sure that couldn’t be good.
Finally she looked at the wall clock and realized hours had passed. Hours? What the hell? She wanted to go grab a doctor by his throat.
When Rory fell silent briefly, either out of words or too overcome, she leaned over Regina. “I love you,” she told the girl in as strong a voice as she could manage. “We’re going to cook Thanksgiving dinner together, and decorate the house just as much as you want for Christmas. You like those twinkle lights? I do. And I’ll help you with the words to more songs. Do you want me to call Betsy for you? Anybody else?”
It was useless patter. The girl didn’t answer. She vomited again, and then she groaned so loudly it was almost a scream. The pain was worsening.
Finally the doctor appeared. His name badge said Dr. David. Before speaking to them, he checked the monitor and scanned a computer screen.
Rory was on his feet now, still holding Regina’s hand.
Dr. David finally gave them his full attention. “It appears to be a ruptured appendix. If not, it’s something very similar. She definitely needs surgery.”
“What’s going on?” Rory demanded. “She’s sinking. I can see it and I’m no doctor.”
“Some of that’s the morphine,” Dr. David answered. “But right now she’s got a massive infection working in her. We’ve started antibiotics intravenously, but she needs to be cleaned out inside.”
“How long is that going to be?” Rory’s voice held a definite edge.
“Soon. That’s all I can say. We’ve got people in the suites with their chests open. One of our surgeons is moving as fast as he can. We’re triaging the other victims to see who can wait.” He clapped his hand to Rory’s shoulder. “We’re doing absolutely everything we can, I promise you.”
“Everything,” Rory repeated, sounding almost numb as the doctor walked away. “I can’t believe this is everything.”
Abby didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t offer any comfort other than stupid palliatives. Regina’s breathing was getting shallower. She looked almost sallow now. Her blood pressure was frighteningly low.
All she could do was wrap her arms around Rory and hug him tight. Terror had crept into her heart, as well. She could no longer imagine a life without Regina. Couldn’t do it. Love was once again cracking her heart in two.
“It won’t be long,” said a woman nurse finally. Abby glanced at the clock. God, it was already six in the morning.
The nurse picked up the phone on the wall near the bed and punched in a number. “It’s extremely urgent,” she said bluntly. “We don’t have long. Yes, tell him. All right.” Then she hung up.
“Regina is next in line. We’re going to take her up there as soon as I get a call.”
Then she leaned over Regina. “Regina,” she said loudly, “you’re next in line. We have a doctor for you. It won’t be long. Stay with me. Regina, stay with me!” It was a command. “Open your eyes.”
Regina’s lids fluttered.
“Good girl,” said the nurse, talking so loudly it was almost a shout. “Hang on just a little longer. You’re next. Now stay with me.”
&nbs
p; Listening to the nurse, Abby realized that Regina was at death’s door. As she watched Rory, she saw the knowledge in his own eyes. Those blue depths blazed with fear and recognition.
He still held his daughter’s hand. Bending over her, he said loudly, “Regina, I love you. Hear me? You better hang on or you’ll never get that horse.”
Another cry escaped the girl, nearly a shriek. Abby started trembling. All that pain through morphine?
“That’s it,” said the nurse, still talking at full volume. “You fight it, Regina. Daddy promised you a horse. You’re next and we’re going to fix you. Stay with me!”
The phone rang and the nurse snatched it. “On the way” was all she said.
She turned to them. “We’re clearing the OR. She’ll be in the surgeon’s hands in ten minutes. You hear that Regina? Just ten more minutes. We’re taking you now.”
Abby and Rory watched as they took her away. The nurse told them where the surgery waiting room was, and suggested they take a few minutes to grab some coffee or food from the cafeteria.
Rory reached out to her. “Is she...will she?”
The nurse hesitated. “I’m not a doctor.”
“Then talk to me as a person. Please.”
“She’s going to be in excellent hands. Dr. Ted is one of our best, and he just hurried through thoracic surgery for Regina.”
“But...”
“I’m sorry, I can’t say any more. But if I were you, I’d want my daughter to be going right where Regina’s going now.”
* * *
Sitting in the surgery waiting room was hardly any better, except that now they were sure Regina was getting the treatment she needed. Abby went to get some coffee for them, but Rory refused food and she didn’t want any, either.
They sat side by side in basic padded waiting chairs, watching the second hand sweep on the wall clock.
“I’m glad you came,” Rory said. “I needed you.”
“I haven’t done anything.”
He turned toward her, his eyes blazing. “You were here. That matters. You give a damn. That matters.”
Twisting toward him, she reached out and they hugged one another. “She’s going to be all right. I’m sure of it.”
“Maybe. Probably.” He unleashed a long shaky sigh. “You want to put things in perspective? This’ll do it.”
She had to agree. All the other things that had troubled her, all the demons that tormented her inside since Porter, seemed like little imps with dull pitchforks now, unable to touch her beyond mere pinpricks.
They broke the hug, then sat with hands twined. “I’ve made up my mind,” he said.
“About what?”
“No more touring until Regina is out of high school. I’m going to stay right here, get her the damn horse, or a dozen if she wants, and raise my girl. There aren’t any days to waste.”
So obviously true. One of those trite things he talked about that hit home like a ton of bricks. How much of life was wasted by focusing on entirely the wrong things? Worrying about the wrong things? Too much, she thought miserably. Entirely too much.
“I didn’t just decide this tonight,” he said.
“You mentioned it before.”
“Yeah. When I first came out here, I thought it would be temporary. It’s a long way from Regina, even though Stella made sure I hardly ever saw her.”
Abby’s chest tightened. “How did she do that?”
“Well, only certain holidays were written in the final decree. The rest of the time we were supposed to work things out. Stella made sure that Regina had other things to do when I was in town on weekends, sent her away to camp for the summer... What with one thing or another I got to see her only a few times and only for a few hours since Christmas.”
“That’s awful!” Abby couldn’t imagine the pettiness of it, although given what she’d heard about Stella, she wondered why she should be surprised.
“Anyway, then Regina came to stay with me, and I started thinking about how quickly she was growing up and how much I was missing. Tonight just solidified it.”
Abby squeezed his hand, waiting, but he said no more. Eventually he freed his hand and put his arm around her shoulders. “Thank you,” he said.
“You don’t need to thank me. I was scared, too. I wanted to be here.”
At long last the surgeon appeared and he was smiling. He shook their hands saying, “She’s going to be fine. Her appendix ruptured and spread infection everywhere. We’ve cleaned it out, and after a couple of days on IV antibiotics, she’ll be able to come home. In the meantime, she’s in recovery. We should be able to move her to a room in a few hours and then you can see her. And tonight when I check on her I’ll answer any of your questions, but I have another surgery waiting right now.”
Rory hugged Abby so tightly that she almost squeaked. “Thank God,” he whispered. “Thank God.”
Then he kissed her, lightly but warmly.
When he released her, Abby felt a huge sense of loss. But then she’d already figured she could stay in those arms forever. Even so, they weren’t hers to claim.
She touched his cheek lightly. “Will you be okay now? This would be a good time for me to take care of Rally. I’ll be back later to see Regina.”
He seized her in another tight hug. “Hurry back,” he said roughly. “I’m going to miss you.”
Chapter Nine
Regina came home from the hospital two days later. She was still sore and took over the couch downstairs, but she looked so much better it seemed miraculous. Propped on pillows, in a comfy nightgown with an extraordinarily happy dog on the floor beside her, she announced, “Don’t let me do that again.”
Abby and Rory both laughed. “Like we had anything to say about it,” said Rory. “And I think most people have only one appendix.”
“And now I have none,” Regina said smugly. “I am so special.” Then her expression changed. “I really scared you guys, huh?”
“Out of my mind,” Rory admitted.
“Me, too,” Abby agreed. “And don’t forget Rally. That dog was miserable. He knew something was seriously wrong.”
Regina stretched out a hand to pat him. He was so big, she didn’t have to reach far. “More worried than Mom, probably.”
Abby sank internally. Stella’s absence was spectacular. Not even a phone call. Rory had called her to let her know what had happened and that had been it.
“Honey,” Rory started.
“Don’t bother,” Regina said. “I had to live with her, remember? I wasn’t whining. It’s just that the dog loves me more than she does. What more is there?”
Abby felt sick for her. No girl should have to feel that way about her mother, yet in all honesty, there were probably plenty in the world who didn’t feel loved.
“Abby cared more,” Regina remarked. “And she doesn’t even have to.”
Abby met Rory’s troubled gaze and sought to lighten the moment. “Well, of course I don’t have to. You put me under your spell, though, and here I am. Darn it, I love you.”
Regina managed a cautious giggle. “My spell, huh? And did I hear something about a horse?”
Rory looked at Abby. “I knew she was pretending the whole time.”
That got another smile from Regina. “Well, you kinda shouted it at me. Like that nurse. Stay with her? I can think of better people to stay with. Horse?”
“Yes,” said Rory. “Horse. For Christmas. Once we get your mother settled down.”
Regina waved a hand. “Oh, that’s easy. I know about the cocaine she keeps in her jewelry box.”
* * *
Regina dozed off early on the couch that evening. Her appetite had improved dramatically, and she even ate a cold piece of her own pizza. But the illness and surge
ry had left her worn out, and probably would for a while.
When Rory went out to run the dog before bed, Abby went to her own apartment, leaving the door open so she could hear if Regina called out. She curled up on the rocker in a fresh pair of sweats, wondering why the room felt chilly tonight, deciding it must be her. She was worn out from the last couple of days, too, and not even seeing Regina’s remarkably speedy improvement could undo it all.
The phone rang just as Rory and the dog returned and she let him answer it.
She had other things to think about, such as how fond she had become of Regina. Almost without noticing it, she had come to love Rory’s daughter and couldn’t imagine life without her. If she’d needed any proof, the last few days had given it to her.
Then there was Rory. All her distrust had evaporated. Anyone would be lucky to have that man’s love. But she couldn’t escape the feeling that she was living in a temporary situation, that sooner or later she’d need to move on for some reason. Even if she postponed all thought of going back to school, there’d come a day when Rory would decide to go back to Nashville, or when he’d meet another woman and want to get married. She doubted she’d be welcome as a housekeeper then.
But mostly she thought about Regina’s shocking revelation earlier. Rory had been furious. He hadn’t blown up, or even raised his voice, but the edge in his words as he asked Regina how she knew that had been unmistakable. It had only gotten worse when Regina had blithely said, “There’s other stuff, too. But I’m tired.”
Rory had left the room to make a call, and she presumed it was to his lawyer, but she didn’t know. The rest of the day had continued quietly, as if a huge bomb hadn’t been dropped.
No girl that age should be exposed to that, Abby thought with horrified anger. No parent should expose their child to that. Cocaine? Her opinion of Stella had been low before, but now the woman had relocated to the subbasement in Abby’s estimation. She wasn’t totally naive. She knew some folks liked drugs. Some of her friends had smoked marijuana back in their high school and college days. But to do it around your kid?