Suddenly

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Suddenly Page 34

by Barbara Delinsky


  When the doctor finally came to see them, it was with a mixed bag of news. “Jill’s fine,” she said, “but we lost the baby. I’m sorry, Mrs. Stickley. The pelvic fracture caused other internal injuries. It’s a miracle the baby stayed in so long.”

  Jane was holding a hand to her chest. “But Jill’s all right.”

  “She will be. Once the baby was taken, we did some repair work. If all heals well, she’ll be able to have other children.”

  “When can I see her?”

  “If you go back to her room, she’ll be along soon.”

  Paige had no intention of waiting. She sent Jane on, then made her way to the recovery room, where Jill was drifting in and out of sleep. As time passed, she was more out than in. Paige held her hand and waited quietly with her arms propped on the bars of the bed.

  After a bit, Jill kept her eyes open long enough to focus on Paige.

  Paige smiled. “Welcome back.”

  “What happened?” she whispered hoarsely.

  “You’re going to be just fine.”

  “And my baby?”

  Paige’s smile faded. She shook her head. “It was too little. It couldn’t make it.”

  Jill swallowed and closed her eyes. “What was it?”

  One part of Paige didn’t want to tell her. Giving the baby a sex made it more real. But then, it had been real. To deny that would be to deny Jill the right to grieve as she needed to do.

  Softly she repeated what the surgeon had told her. “It was a boy. Very tiny. There may have been some damage from the accident. It’s for the best, Jill.”

  Jill nodded. She dozed off. Paige remained with her, holding her hand. A few minutes later Jill turned her head and opened her eyes again. She frowned, then remembered.

  “A boy. Did he look like Joey?”

  Paige smiled sadly. “I don’t know. I didn’t see him. My guess is he was too little to look like anyone at all.”

  “I kept wondering…kept thinking I’d be walking somewhere…see a little kid who looked like one of us.” She made a face. “My stomach hurts.”

  “That’s your incision. They took the baby by cesarean section. But you’re going to be just fine.”

  “Only no baby.”

  “Not now. Another time. When it’s right.”

  Jill nodded. Her eyes pooled. She closed them, but tears trickled from the corners.

  Paige held her hand more tightly, letting her cry until the lingering effects of the anesthesia doped her again. When she woke up this time, Paige summoned an orderly and they wheeled her back to her room.

  Jane was waiting there, along with Jill’s father, who hadn’t spoken with Jill since she had announced that she was pregnant. Apparently Jane had called to tell him that she no longer was.

  As soon as Jill was shifted onto the proper bed and covered, he leaned over. “Jill? Jillie? It’s me.”

  Jill opened her eyes. They took him in and filled with tears again.

  “It’s all right, honey,” he said, taking her hand and patting it. “You’ll be just fine now. Don’t you worry about a thing.”

  Purposefully, Paige moved in close to him. Had he smelled of liquor, she would have summoned Norman Fitch to kick him right out of the hospital. That was how much she thought of Frank Stickley.

  But he smelled clean.

  So she touched Jill’s shoulder and said softly, “I’m going home now, Jill. Your parents will sit with you for a while, but I’ll be back first thing in the morning. If there’s any problem, ring for the nurse and she’ll call me, okay?”

  Jill nodded.

  Paige left the hospital thinking that Frank Stickley reminded her of Thomas O’Neill. Both men were stubborn; both considered their own values sacrosanct; both had the ability to cut off a child as though it were a fingernail rather than a piece of the heart.

  Jill would never forget what her father had done. She might be able to set it aside for the present, but she wouldn’t forget it. It was a piece of emotional baggage that she would likely carry for the rest of her life.

  Rejection was like that. A borer, it drilled a tiny hole deep inside that never went away. In good times it might be filled with the overflow of happiness, but in bad times it got bigger and bigger, until finally it choked off the will to live. That was what had happened to Mara. Paige was convinced of it. Rejection had become synonymous with failure. Whether her death had been accidental or not was a moot point. She had lost the will to live.

  Later, standing over Sami’s crib watching her sleep, Paige wondered if children weren’t the key, a perpetuation both of the species and of the self. For Mara certainly, they were a validation, a declaration to the world that “I am worthy, therefore I am worthy to raise a child.” Jill, who was barely old enough to know what raising a child meant, had felt it on some level. And Paige? Her work had always been her validation.

  Suddenly she wondered if it was enough.

  Peter was the first to arrive at work the next morning and started seeing drop-ins as soon as they came. He was feeling better than he had in a long time, and that, in spite of Angie’s call the night before. The fact of her taking Friday and Monday off would mean more work for him at a time when he had other things on his mind, but he could be generous. Angie had been through a rough period. If a long weekend together was what she and Ben needed, he could grant them that.

  Fortunately, while the morning served up more than its share of seasonal colds, coughs, and earaches, the afternoon was acute free. He was out of the office by five, crossing through the parking lot to the hospital. What snow remained from the storm had become slushy and dirty, but that didn’t discourage him. He was feeling energetic.

  He had a regular roster of accident victims whom he saw daily, and daily the list shrank as patients were discharged. Only the more serious remained, which meant that those who needed the greatest care could finally, comfortably, get it.

  He visited each in turn, saving Kate Ann for last. When he arrived, she was picking at her dinner. He stood at the door for a minute, watching.

  There were only two patients left in the room, Kate Ann and another. The other seemed always to have visitors, while Kate Ann had none, which was one of the reasons Peter tried to save a little extra time for her each day. The other was that he felt bad for her. She faced an ominous future.

  “Look who’s here,” came a familiar voice. A pair of arms circled him from behind, hands coming to rest on his chest with the same suggestiveness as the voice, which proceeded to croon against his back, “My favorite doctor.”

  He took the hands and lifted them off. As he turned, he saw a group of giggling girls slip into the stairwell down the hall. “Not appropriate behavior, Julie.”

  She gave him a crooked smile that said she disagreed. “You were looking pensive. Very sexy. Tell me you were thinking about me.”

  “Sorry, but I wasn’t. What are you doing here?”

  She pulled at her smock. “I work here.”

  Smock or not, he didn’t believe it. He wouldn’t have put it past her to filch the smock. “Uh-huh.”

  “I do. A bunch of us are helping out. After the collapse at the movie house and all. If it hadn’t been fall break weekend, some of us might have been at that concert.”

  “There but for the grace of God?”

  “You could say.” She tossed her chin toward Kate Ann. “Has she eaten? I’ve been back twice looking for her tray. She is so-o slow.”

  “She has reason to be slow,” Peter pointed out. “She has a slight problem with mobility. If you want to be helpful, you could see if anything needs to be cut. For that matter, if you want to be helpful, you could just go in and sit with her. She doesn’t have any family. She lies there day in, day out, alone. She could use the company.”

  Julie looked at Kate Ann uneasily. “What in the world would I say to her? She and I don’t have a thing in common.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because she’s much older than me.�


  “So am I.”

  “And she’s a townie.”

  “So am I, but that’s beside the point. Kate Ann is an avid reader. She’s been through most everything on the best-seller lists. You could discuss one of those books with her. Unless you haven’t read any.” He took pleasure in Julie’s flush, which for once had nothing to do with sex.

  “I’m a full-time student,” she argued. “I don’t have time to read books.”

  “Then songs. She listens to the radio. You could discuss music with her. Or you could ask her how she’s feeling. Ask her if she’d like her television set turned on. Ask her if she’d like the slant of the bed changed. She can’t do much for herself. Any help will be appreciated. Come on. I’ll show you how.” Taking Julie’s hand, he led her into the room. He dropped it when he neared the bed.

  “Hi, Kate Ann,” he said, pleased to see the brightening of her eyes when they caught his. “How’re you doin’?”

  “Okay.”

  “What’d you get for dinner?”

  She looked dubiously at the tray, then dubiously at Julie. “Fish, I think. But I’m not very hungry. I’m sorry I’ve held you up. You can take it now.”

  “You haven’t held her up,” Peter said. “It’s her job to wait as long as need be until you’re done.” He made the introductions. “Kate Ann, I want you to meet Julie. She’s a senior at Mount Court Academy.”

  Kate Ann produced a rusty smile for Julie, but it was gone in a wink.

  “If you ever need anything and she’s around, she’ll get it. Okay?” He gestured toward the tray. “Don’t want anymore?”

  “No,” she murmured.

  Peter gave Julie the tray. “All set,” he told her by way of dismissal, and went to the foot of the bed to occupy himself with Kate Ann’s chart. By the time he had read that there was no change in her condition, Julie was gone. He returned to the head of the bed.

  “You look better, at least. I like the robe.” He had picked it up at the mall. It hadn’t cost much, but it made Kate Ann look as if someone cared.

  “I like it, too,” she whispered, fingering the collar. “But you shouldn’t have bought it.”

  Maybe not, he thought to himself, but the teal green of it demanded attention. It refused to be invisible. If Kate Ann was to get the care she needed—which had become his cause—she had to emerge from the woodwork.

  Besides, teal did interesting things for her skin, made it look less pale, more alabaster. He doubted she had ever worn anything as vivid. The Kate Ann his mind pictured was always dressed in dull browns and grays. If she did something with her hair, which was straight and long, parted in the middle, and pulled back into a braid, she might actually look attractive.

  Then again, it was probably better to leave her hair as it was. Less work.

  “And the book on tape,” she added. “I listened to it this morning.”

  “I read it last night.” It was a new legal thriller. “What did you think?”

  “I thought that it wasn’t as good as his first,” she said.

  Peter agreed. He tried to put his finger on what was wrong. “Too contrived?”

  “Like the ingredients of the first mixed up and put back in a different order. Only it didn’t work.”

  “Except for the ex-wife. She is well done.”

  Kate Ann’s eyes sparkled. “She’s the most sympathetic of the characters. I like her.” The sparkle died. “I envy her.”

  “Envy?”

  “She’s resourceful. She finds ways to make things work. She fights for what she wants.” Left unsaid was that Kate Ann couldn’t do that.

  “You could,” Peter coaxed.

  But she looked away. “I’m not good with people, not good at all. It hurts too much to try. And now, well, I can’t—”

  “Kate Ann, I’ve called another doctor. He’s a neuro-surgeon from Worcester. I’d like him to see you next week.”

  “I thought there was nothing left to do.” She waved a shaky hand toward her legs and looked as though she might cry.

  Peter took the hand in his to still it and said with quiet confidence, “There’s always something left to do. If it’s not surgery, then it’s physical therapy.” He refused to let her give up.

  “But I can’t afford another doctor.”

  “I told you not to worry about money.”

  “But I don’t have any. I can’t pay for any of this. And if I can’t work soon, I’ll lose all my accounts. Isn’t there some way I can work? My mind works. And my hands. Can’t I do work here?”

  “You should be resting.”

  “I need to work,” she whispered, the child again with the big eyes that held desperation and fear to the point of overflowing.

  Those eyes did something to Peter. He touched her shoulder. “Be right back.” He went to the nurses’ station and returned with a piece of paper and a pencil. “Who are your major accounts?”

  She was confused. “What—”

  “I’ll call them and see what I can do.”

  She gave him the information. “There aren’t many,” she said meekly, “but they do pay.”

  He folded the paper and put it in his pocket, feeling at the same time sorry for poor, pathetic Kate Ann Murther and pleased that he could help. It seemed to him that work, even on a small scale, was as valid therapy as the other.

  “I’m really starved,” he said, “but the stuff you had looked pretty grim. It’ll be more of that in the cafeteria. What if I ran over to Harry’s and brought back a veal sub. Would you have some?”

  She looked startled, then shy. “A little, maybe.”

  He rubbed his hands together. “Good. I’ll be right back.”

  He bought two subs, had Harry cut Kate Ann’s into pickup-size pieces, and returned. She ate nearly half of the sub. He wrapped up the rest, put it on the table by the bed, and instructed the nurse to encourage her to eat more later. Kate Ann had always been thin; now she looked as though a good gust would blow her away. Peter wanted her to put on a few pounds. She needed strength for the long road ahead.

  He was thinking about that long road an hour later while he nursed a beer at the Tavern. Familiar boot steps came from the back. His brother, Charlie, slid into the booth.

  “Hey-ya, Pete. What’s up?”

  “Not much,” Peter said.

  “You look tired. Putting in extra hours at the hospital?”

  “You could say that. The movie house thing is lingering. It’ll be a long time before we’re back to normal.”

  “Frenchy’s boy got home yesterday, but it’ll be a while before he’s on his feet. Same with Duke’s kid. The two of them toppled down with the rest of the crew in the balcony.” He shook his head. “Shouldn’t’ve happened. Frank Stickley’s mad as hell. He was in here a little while ago saying someone ought to do something, and he isn’t the only one. There’s lots of gumblings this time. ‘Course, they’re just grumblings. No one that rents from Jamie Cox dares take him on.” He leaned in and lowered his voice. “You gonna do it?”

  “Me?” Peter asked, more curious than surprised.

  “You’re right for the job. You’ve seen firsthand the mess he made. And you don’t owe a damn thing to Jamie.”

  “Neither do you.”

  Charlie made a sputtering sound and sat back. “Yeah, but I’m nothing. I don’t know the first thing about taking someone on in a courtroom. On the street, maybe. In here, maybe. But not in a courtroom. And that’s where it’s gotta be. That’s where it’ll hurt him most.”

  “You’ve thought this out,” Peter remarked.

  “Hell, it doesn’t take much thought,” Charlie countered. “I’m not dumb. Neither are the other guys, though there are times you’d like to think it. We know what has to be done. We just don’t know how to go about doing it.”

  Peter felt contrite. “You hire a lawyer. He’ll do the rest.”

  “That’s fine to say, but no local lawyer will take on Jamie, so where are we going to find someone
good who can get the job done? You’re the one with the outside contacts. You know city doctors. They know city lawyers.”

  Peter looked duly thoughtful. He didn’t want to be a pushover. “The guys are really talking?”

  Charlie nodded. “Mad as hell. They’d be grateful if you got the ball rolling, I can tell you that.” He grew cautious. “Mara O’Neill woulda done it, if she were alive.”

  “Probably,” Peter admitted. He was past the point of getting his hackles up the minute her name was raised. He and she had come to a meeting of minds.

  “She was a fine person,” Charlie said, then leaned forward again. “So what’s this I hear about you and Kate Ann Murther?”

  “Come again?”

  “Kate Ann Murther. Don’t ask me what she was doing up there in that balcony—don’t ask me what she was doing at that concert at all—but word has it she’s in bad shape. So. I hear you’re taking a special interest in her.”

  “Where did you hear that?” Peter asked with what he thought was just the right amount of disbelief.

  “Duke’s sister-in-law works on Kate Ann’s floor. She says you’re there a lot.”

  “I’ve been following all the patients I treated in the ER after the accident.”

  Charlie winked. “But you didn’t treat Kate Ann. Leastways, that’s what Duke’s sister-in-law says. You brought her upstairs after the accident and let it be known that she wasn’t to be ignored.”

  “Damn right,” Peter snapped. “The poor thing was lying there in the hall in absolute terror and no one was paying her the slightest heed. Just because she doesn’t have family here who can make noise on her behalf doesn’t mean she should be shunted aside. They just left her there. God knows when she would have gotten a room—if she would have gotten one—if I hadn’t come along.”

  Charlie grinned. “Then it’s true. You’ve become her savior.”

  “I wouldn’t quite call it that,” Peter hedged. “I’m making sure that she gets the care she needs. It’s my job as a doctor.”

  But Charlie was still grinning. “Kate Ann Murther. She’s the last person I thought you’d be drawn to. Lacey, I could understand. Mara, I could understand. But Kate Ann Murther?” He looked ready to choke with laughter, which irritated the hell out of Peter.

 

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