Christi knelt by the stack. “One for you, one for Dad and one for me. We can all open them at the same time.”
Nora started to protest, but she cut her words off before they hit the air. Anything to get through this the quickest.
She opened her present from Gordon. “Tickets to the Bahamas?” They’d always talked of going to a warm place during the winter.
Christi held up hers. “How can I skip school?”
“I looked at the school calendar and you have a two-day break for some reason. This way you’ll only miss one day of school.”
“Charlie would have loved to go.”
“I know. I had a ticket for him too.”
The fire snapped, the only sound in the room.
Nora rolled her lips together and, with a sigh, blinked back the tears. She’d known this was not a good idea.
He pulled the fleece robe Nora had bought him from the box he’d opened. “I suppose you want me to do away with the old plaid flannel?”
“That’s the general idea.” She set her box beside her chair and standing, studied the boxes to find one for each of them. The ones from her mother would be safe.
Gordon chose the next round, being careful to not give out the ones from Charlie either.
“I’ll be right back,” Christi said when her turn came.
Nora knew Christi had painted something for her father, but she had yet to see it herself.
“You know what’s going on?”
“Sort of.” She sipped her cider, now growing chilled, then got up to put more wood on the fire and close the hanging screen, which protected the rug and the dog fur from sparks. Anything to keep her hands busy.
Christi returned with a three-by-four canvas, wrapped in Christmas paper and tied with wide red ribbon and a bow in the middle. She handed it to her father.
“For me?”
She nodded, her face all serious, none of the little-girl delight she used to show when giving her gifts. “Open it.”
“You want me to ruin the ribbon?”
“D-a-d.”
He pushed the ribbon off the sides and ripped the paper, then held the canvas in front of him and stared at the picture. “Oh my…” His voice crumbled. He blinked hard and smiled at his daughter. “Oh, Christi, this is the…”
Nora leaned over as he turned the picture so she could see. Christi had taken a photo of Charlie and Gordon in front of the icehouse out on the lake last winter, holding their strings of Northerns, and had painted it. Nora remembered the day and the photo.
Seeing the tears in Gordon’s eyes did her in. She fought hard, but the tears won.
Gordon set the painting beside his chair and gathered his daughter into his arms. She began to cry and he rocked back and forth with her, as though she were again a tiny girl. “That’s the best present you could ever give me and the best painting you’ve done. Thank you.”
She gulped. “I thought you could put it in your office, but now…”
Nora huddled in her chair. Surely, this time the tears would never quit.
Chapter Twenty-two
Jenna
She’s in his room more than in her own.”
“Now, Jenna, surely you are exaggerating.” Randy’s chuckle made her smile into her phone.
Jenna had called Pastor Larson and he called on Jared too—in fact, right now, the three of them were in Jared’s room and laughter could be heard clear down the hall. “The nurses might have to go in there and calm down the party.”
“How come you’re not in there?” he asked, sounding so close, even though she knew he was miles away.
“Because you called.”
“So… I am keeping you away from a party?”
“Randy, even her laugh is different. Or else I’ve not heard her laugh like this since she grew up.” Jenna thought back and switched the phone to her other ear. Laughter took a lot of lung power and Heather hadn’t had that to use. But she hadn’t cracked jokes to make others laugh either. She thought back further—Heather coming home from school with knock-knock jokes. She even dreamed up ones of her own.
“What are you thinking about so hard? I can hear the wheels turning from here.”
“Back when she was in kindergarten.”
“She was so blond, her hair was white. Remember when she wanted a pony and so I took her out to a friend’s place to ride?”
“Yeah, and she was allergic to the horse and came home sneezing her head off.”
“Are you sure?” He sounded so chagrined, Jenna chuckled. “I forgot that part.”
“Scared me so, that’s why I remember.” She’d been in nursing school then, so she could get a job that earned enough money to support them. Arlen had been gone two or three years by that time. “You were still in college.”
“Felt like I was always in school. By the time I got my MBA, I figured—Dad did too—that I was a professional student.”
“But look how well you’ve done.”
“I know. Good thing.” He chuckled. “One Christmas I went to him and Mom and told them I was thinking of changing my major. He about had a heart attack.”
“Did you really want to do that?”
“No, not really, but I was frustrated with so many years in school and probably tired from exams or something. I’ll tell you about it… someday.”
“Who you talking to?” Heather paused in the doorway, pushing her walker, but not leaning on it.
Jenna moved the mouthpiece away. “Randy. You want to talk to him?”
“Sure, but let me get in bed first.”
“You okay?”
“Just tired.” Heather sat on the edge of the bed and turned, lifting one leg first and then the other. She lay back against the pillows and closed her eyes for a moment. When she reached for the phone, she smiled her thanks. “Hey there, Uncle Randy, when you coming to visit?”
I wanted to ask him that, but figured it sounded pushy. Heather could get away with it, though. Jenna thought about his last visit. Was she the only one aware of a different feeling, or had he been too? Back when they were younger, their five-year age difference had seemed a lot, but no longer. So what difference does that make? she asked herself. The two of you are good friends, he’s your brother-in-law and he loves being uncle to Heather. Why these “am I too old for him” thoughts all of a sudden?
Maybe because now that Heather can have a life of her own, you can too. Scary, huh?
If she weren’t sitting down, she’d have had to. She tuned back in to the phone conversation.
“Maybe the day after tomorrow.” Heather listened with a smile. “Would you really?” She caught a yawn and suddenly looked like a deflated balloon. “No, just tired. I start to feel good and then I guess I overdo it, but Jared really needed some cheering up. His body is trying to reject the new kidney.” She said it as matter-of-factly as if she were telling Randy how many sutures her surgery took.
Jenna closed her eyes. Please, Lord, bring health back to that young man. His family has given so much. They had met the brother the day before. He was heading home and came in to say good-bye. He’d only been in the hospital two days after surgery. Jenna had met the mother too. Not everyone could spend the days with a child in the hospital, which made her even more grateful that she could. She still had another week of vacation she could use to take care of Heather. After that, she’d be on leave, but without pay. But she refused to worry about the future. Somehow they would manage. At least that’s what she told herself.
“Okay, I’ll give you back to Mom. Yeah, I am feeling kinda tired.” Heather handed the phone to her mother and closed her eyes.
“Hi, I’m back.”
“Let me know for sure when you will be home again. I have a business meeting in Denver, so I could drive up for the weekend.”
Just the sound of his voice made her heart skip a beat. What was the matter with her? This felt more like teenage angst and hormones than a forty-two-year-old woman with a twenty-year-old daughter who w
as just beginning her new life. Actually, both of them were beginning new lives. “That would be great. I’ll let you know.” She mentally looked at a calendar. Tomorrow was New Year’s Eve already.
“How are you getting home?” Randy asked.
One thing she didn’t have to think about. “Dr. Avery said to let him know, he’d take care of it.”
“He must have friends in high places.”
“Well, some of them fly, does that make for high places?” She realized she’d yet to thank the man who flew them to Omaha. Right now, she couldn’t for the life of her remember his name. Or did she ever know his real name?
Randy’s laugh came warm in her ear. “Driving would be pretty exhausting for Heather, wouldn’t it?”
“If we had a place where she could lie down, it wouldn’t be so bad. She still sleeps a lot.”
“Who wouldn’t?”
“True. I’ll call Dr. Avery and see what he says.”
“Talk soon, then?”
“Yes. Thanks for calling.” As she clicked her phone shut, she thought she heard him say something else. Or perhaps her imagination was running overtime.
Since Heather was sleeping, Jenna wandered down to the nurses’ lounge, where she poured herself a cup of coffee, tasted it, made a face and poured it down the sink. She’d learned where the supplies were kept, so she started a new pot. The other had been sitting far too long, no one needed sludge like that—no matter how necessary the caffeine fix. While she waited for it to drip, she studied the notes on the bulletin board. Someone was selling Avon, someone else had a litter of kittens to give away. Saturday everyone was invited to a bridal shower. A letterhead from the hospital board advised all nursing staff of a union meeting coming up in mid-January.
The light flashed and she poured her mug of coffee. What if she were to think about working somewhere other than the ER? Where she could have normal shifts, even work days if she wanted. The stress level in the ER, even in a small town like North Platte, was wearying—though sometimes she figured she thrived on the rush.
How was she going to find out?
Back in Heather’s room, she unfolded the blanket she kept on the back of the recliner/bed/chair and covered herself with the blanket, kicked the chair back one notch and sipped her coffee. She’d slept almost as much as Heather. Should that tell her something?
That evening, when Dr. Walker made his rounds, she asked, “Do you have an estimated day we will be released?”
He studied his paperwork. “Would the day after tomorrow be all right, meaning, of course, we continue to see no sign of rejection?”
“New Year’s Day?”
“I can’t think of a better way to start the new year, can you?”
“Not at all.” She smiled at Heather, who grinned back. “Guess I better start the transportation wheels in motion.”
“Do you have a car here?”
“No, but Dr. Cranston said to let him know when and he’d take care of it.”
“Having him available to you is one reason I’m not asking you to stay around here in a hotel for a few more days. He’s one of the best. Wish we could talk him into coming back here.”
“That would take something cataclysmic, I think. He likes being able to go fishing when he wants.”
“Does he really only work part-time?”
Jenna nodded. “Three days a week and on call only for select patients. He says if you have good staff, you can let go of the day-to-day comfortably.”
“Well, good for him. I know he’ll be speaking at a conference I’m attending in Chicago. Be good to catch up.” He patted Heather’s leg. “You can tell him you are one of our star patients. I hear you’ve been spreading some of that beautiful smile around this place.”
“I still haven’t won a game of UNO with Jared. Even with Pastor Larson there, he wins every time.” Heather raised her eyebrows. “You want to take him on?”
“Nope, my ten-year-old son beats me all the time. Started with Go Fish when he was really little. He’s a card shark.”
He went out the door, leaving Heather chuckling.
“I get to go home in two days.” Her eyes widened and she blinked several times. “Just think, Mom, I can go back to college.”
“Not right away.”
“No, but I can finish those online classes and actually start spring quarter at North Platte Community College.”
Oh, it was difficult, but Jenna kept her mouth shut. Take it easy, don’t push, don’t set such big dreams and get disappointed, she silently admonished Heather. You’ve been ill for so long…. “Think I better call Dr. Avery and see what he has up his sleeve.”
“You want to come play UNO with us? Maybe you could beat Jared.”
“I’ll walk you down and come in later.” Jenna heaved a sigh and fetched the cotton robe with a belt from the closet. At least Heather didn’t have to wear only the hospital gown. One of the nurses had brought in the robe, since she went down the hall so often.
Earlier this morning, they had walked clear down to the end of the hall and back to the other end before joining Jared in a hand of UNO. Heather went to physical therapy after that and then took a nap. Jared, on the other hand, did not look good in Jenna’s estimation. She wanted to ask the nurse, but she knew that with all the privacy laws, it would put the nurse in an uncomfortable position. Heather had said Jared’s body was trying to reject the kidney. She wondered how far that process had progressed. And how could she ask her daughter without giving away her suspicions?
Lord, I don’t know what to do but mind my own business, I guess. Protect Heather from… from what I don’t know. But this concerns me and I know it must You too. Please heal that young man, he has so much life to live.
Jenna walked on down to the lounge, where a man and his family were visiting in one corner, the television in another corner on mute. She stood by the windows so she could look out on the snow-covered ground. Sun and blue sky immediately cheered her up as she punched in the numbers, knowing that Dr. Avery would be glad to hear her good news. The answering service picked up her call.
“Dr. Avery Cranston is not in today, but you may leave a message on his voice mail if you like.” A number for immediate help followed.
Jenna thought a moment. This was a day he should be in the office. Unless, of course, he’d taken extra time off for the holidays.
“Hi, Dr. Avery, it’s Jenna. Heather is being released on January 1. You said to call. She has done remarkably well. I look forward to talking with you.” She left her number at the hotel, as well as her cell, clicked her phone shut and stuck it in her pocket. Now we wait.
The darkling fingers of “what-if,” so rarely positive, began tickling Jenna’s mind. What if Dr. Avery was not able to provide transportation? With all she’d tried to keep in mind, how to get Heather home had not made the list, since Dr. Avery had taken care of that. She started racing through options. Rent a comfortable car and drive home, stopping as often as needed. It could take a long time, with the need to frequently un-bend Heather from the static position in the car, have her breathe deeply while she walked a bit. Then, the longer that took, the more stress on Heather. Option one didn’t sound so hot.
She decided a coffee cup in her hand might help her think. Book a flight—but could Heather sit up that long? Short of taking a private plane, Heather would have to sit on the way to the airport, sit at the airport, sit during the flight and then during the ride home. So, she reasoned, what about medical transport? Not as expensive as an ambulance, but still pricey.
Heading into the nurses’ lounge, she began to worry. Please, Dr. Avery, get back to me. You made the trip here such an easy thing. But that was an emergency, this isn’t. Another thought, born long of habit, popped in. Instead of worrying—which, according to a coworker, “never does nothin’ for nobody, ’cept itself”—she forced herself to keep thinking options. Options and “yeah, but” scenarios swirled round and round and up and down, like the octopus ride at the
local fair. Ask the social worker assigned to their case? Call Randy and ask for his suggestions? Jenna stopped short with the coffeepot in her hand. Now, why would she consider that? She’d stood on her own two feet for more than seventeen years, what was different now?
One of the nurses stepped alongside and offered her own cup. “We’re going to have to keep you here, we’ve not had fresh coffee this often for, well… who knows?”
Jenna turned and filled the woman’s cup. “I hate drinking dregs.”
“Me too, but sometimes there’s no time for anything else.” The other nurse leaned against the counter. “You got good news.”
“I know. I can’t thank all of you enough for the good care you’ve given Heather.”
“She’s an easy one. She’s made it through the first couple of hoops. Others aren’t having it so easy.”
In the midst of her transportation troubles, Jenna remembered Jared. Ask, don’t ask. Jenna leaned against the other counter. “I know you’re not supposed to share medical information and I won’t feel bad if you don’t answer, but is Jared doing all right?”
“You’ve noticed it too?”
Jenna nodded. “It’s not rejection, is it?”
“We’re praying not, but the numbers will tell us after this last blood work.” She stirred creamer into her coffee. “He and Heather sure have hit it off.”
“I know. The friendship has been good for her.” She began to tuck away the prayer need for Jared that his new kidney would kick in and act like it had always been there—when she received her own spiritual kick. Pray for him now. She did. The other nurse seemed unfazed by the silence as she sipped her coffee.
When Jenna raised her head after a silent amen, the nurse poured more creamer into her coffee. “Have they given you all the protocol for when you go home?”
“Not yet.”
“Make sure you get all your questions answered.” She set her coffee down and turned away to answer a light from down the hall.
Jenna watched her go. Maybe working a floor like this would be a really good thing. Or maybe pediatrics. New life, here we come. Oh. Right after she figured out how to get them home to start this new life.
One Perfect Day Page 16