by Jenna Mindel
A whistle sounded from the woman’s purse. She pulled out a phone and read whatever had alerted her with a deep frown. She then surprised him by grabbing hold of his hand. “I’m so sorry about your baby. She’ll be fine. God intervenes.”
His gut turned at the earnestness in the woman’s eyes. “What are you talking about?”
She looked surprised. “Opal’s in the hospital with a high fever.”
His mouth dropped open when she showed him a prayer-chain text that had come from Helen Zelinsky. His head spun. “I’m sorry, I have to go. I need to close the store, if you’ll please leave.”
“Of course.” The woman looked even more rattled as he held the door for her.
He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and dialed Cat’s number, but it went to voice mail. Disconnecting, he searched for Cat’s mother’s when his phone buzzed. “Hello?”
“Simon? It’s Helen—”
He interrupted her, “What’s going on with Opal?”
A brief pause on her end. “We’re at the emergency room with Opal. Please come.”
His stomach lurched. “What happened?”
“Opal’s fever spiked and she had a seizure. I’m sorry, but I’ve got to go.” Helen disconnected before he could learn anything more.
Time and space seemed to implode. A seizure sounded serious, like a lifetime ahead with chronic problems and doctors.
No...
Shutting off the lights and setting the alarm, Simon locked up his shop. Then he dashed toward the back alley, where he’d parked, jumped in his car and took off. Fighting terrible thoughts, Simon prayed. He prayed hard.
* * *
Time in the ER passed in a blur for Cat. Her mom supported her by helping to hold Opal while the doctors and nurses poked and prodded her baby for bloodwork and cultures. Hearing Opal cry and seeing the blood drawn, Cat had never felt so helpless. There was nothing she could do to make it better.
She suddenly heard Simon’s loud, angry voice out front, demanding information about his daughter.
“Mom, can you go to him?”
Her mother touched her arm. “Will you be okay?”
She nodded, hoping that was true. What if Opal didn’t make it? She closed her eyes and tried to shut off the terrible thoughts that plagued her. The fear of a life for a life.
“Hang in there, okay?” One of the ER nurses rubbed her back.
“Thanks.” Cat appreciated the compassion and calmed down a little.
As seriously as the staff took Opal’s condition, it didn’t appear that anyone feared for her baby’s life. The doctor had explained that if this were life-threatening, Opal would be transferred downstate instead of upstairs to the pediatric unit.
By the time they transferred Opal up to her room in pediatrics, she was hooked up to an IV of antibiotics in her little hand that had been covered with a sock.
Opal looked terribly small and weak in a hospital crib.
Simon had joined them in the trek upstairs, but he hadn’t said a word. His face darkly grim, angry and adrift. Maybe he too prepared for the worst.
Cat traced the tape that held the tiny IV tube in place on her baby’s arm and whispered, “I’m so sorry.”
Simon glanced at her but said nothing. He returned his focus to their baby.
Opal slept the whole way to the pediatrics unit, no doubt exhausted from crying. She’d wailed through the blood tests and needle pokes with bloodcurdling baby screeches that racked her little body and shredded Cat’s heart.
Opal looked lifeless again, limp and defenseless.
“I’m going for coffee and to call your father. Want anything, either of you?” her mom asked.
“I’m fine.” Simon’s voice sounded raw.
Cat shook her head and slipped into a chair in the corner. Her body shook, so she pulled her knees up to her chest in an attempt to stop the tremors. Memories of paramedics checking the small body of a toddler jumbled with images of the doctors and nurses who had prodded Opal. The two little girls blended into one.
She covered her ears at the memory of Sue Jensen’s screams as she relived Opal’s cries from moments ago. She felt helpless, just as she had then, a feeling she’d never wanted to feel again.
“Cat!”
She looked up into Simon’s worried face. “It’s my fault.”
He grabbed her shoulders and gave her a gentle shake. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Babies get sick. They get fevers.”
Cat shook off his touch. “I should have waited another month before taking her out in public. I should have been more careful, instead of taking her back and forth to your jewelry store.”
His face had hardened. “Why didn’t you call me?”
“I— Uh...” Cat closed her eyes.
“Do you know how I found out? That woman, Sue Jensen, was in my shop when she got a text for prayer from your mom.”
She held up her hand in an attempt to deflect his anger, but it rained over her as piercing as physical blows.
“Why didn’t you bother to call me?”
“I know I should have. I was...”
“You were determined to keep Opal from me from the moment you found out you were expecting, and now this. What’s going on with you? I’m her father. I have a right to know. What else haven’t you told me?”
Squeezing her knees harder against her chest, she looked up into his eyes. “I’ll tell you what’s going on with me. It’s been going on with me for years. My neighbor’s three-year-old drowned while I was babysitting her, Simon. Three years old!”
He jerked back as if she’d slapped him.
“I probably should have told you sooner, but how do you tell someone something like that?”
“How old were you?”
Once started, she couldn’t stop. As if she had no power over the words falling from her mouth, Cat rambled on. “Sixteen. Old enough to know better, but I wanted to lie in the sun and so I set up toys for her to play with by the shore. She loved the sand. I closed my eyes for a couple of minutes, and then when I opened them, she was gone. She’d walked out on the dock and had fallen in the lake. I tried to revive her, but couldn’t. I was too late. I was not paying attention. I was—”
“Did you fall asleep?” He looked horrified.
Cat shook her head. “No. I was listening to the radio, singing along. I never heard the splash.”
He bent his head and rubbed his forehead as if he could scrub away the scene she’d described.
She knew he couldn’t. Something like that never went away.
“I wasn’t paying close enough attention to Opal either. This morning, after you’d gone, she went down for a nap after eating and I finished decorating the tree. I should have checked on her earlier. Maybe I could have caught the fever in time and done something before that seizure.”
This time Simon held up his hand and muttered, “Stop.”
She couldn’t. “Don’t you see? I’m not meant to be a mom. I’m not fit for it and God’s finally punishing me. If something happens to Opal—”
“Stop it, Catherine.” His voice sliced her in two.
She took a breath but kept going. “You need to hear this so you’ll know who I am. I destroyed an entire family by being careless. I can’t do that again. I can’t do that to Opal, to you—” Her voice cracked.
“Stop it!” Simon stood, his face ashen. “It’s just a fever.”
“We can complete that paternity form. It’s in my purse. Maybe...maybe you should be the one to care for her, to take custody. You and my mom. She’ll be safer that way. I’ll go back to New York and—” She choked on a sob.
He backed away from her as if she’d gone crazy.
“Don’t you get it? I failed to protect her. She had a seizure and it could be serious.”
Simon stared at her
a moment longer and then shook his head and turned away.
Cat watched as Simon kissed his fingers and then leaned over the crib to touch them to Opal’s forehead. That gentle gesture broke her in two.
Keeping his hand on their daughter’s head, Simon stayed by Opal’s bed only a few more moments, head bowed, and then he left without looking back.
She didn’t blame him for leaving her. She deserved it. The freedom of finally unloading everything she’d kept secret left her light-headed, so she slumped down into the chair.
The door opened. Her mother had returned. “Cat, honey? What did you say to Simon?”
She looked at her and shrugged. “Everything. He finally knows everything.”
Cat had been chasing Christmas wishes, thinking she could make a family with Simon. Like tinsel on artificial trees, Cat’s dream that her wishes could come true had been fake too. A false hope.
The only thing she knew for certain was her love for Opal was real. She’d rather give her up than harm her in any way. She’d fallen for Simon too, and that was why she should let them both go.
Returning to New York might be better for everyone. She could get her old job back and her old life of being responsible for no one but herself. No one else should have to pay the price for her carelessness.
Chapter Thirteen
Simon walked into the hallway as if coming up for air. While he’d paced in the ER, Helen had told him that all Opal’s tests were merely to rule out anything serious. She’d said that the emergency room doctor believed the odds were in his baby girl’s favor.
Cat’s mom had been through similar scares with her own children, so he’d relaxed some. Helen had also mentioned that Opal had received her two-month immunization shots in New York, before Cat had moved home, though Cat hadn’t yet found a pediatric doctor in Maple Springs. The knowledge that Opal had the protection of the vaccinations was comforting, as well.
The seizure still worried him. What if Cat was right and it turned serious? How long would it take for something to show up on those tests?
“Hey, man, you okay?” Cat’s brother Zach slapped him on the back.
Simon blew out his breath. “I don’t know.”
“My mother says a high fever in infants is not uncommon.”
“I know, but Cat—” Simon stopped.
He still reeled from the things Cat had told him. The loss of a child under her care was horrific, even if it had been accidental. Still, her admission made him rethink everything he knew about her and blew apart what tenuous trust he had.
He’d trusted her enough to share his painful past and yet she hadn’t returned the favor until today. She’d kept yet another bombshell from him. What cut the deepest was she hadn’t called him about Opal. He’d had to find out from a stranger that his daughter was sick and in the hospital.
“Come on. Let’s go down to the cafeteria.”
“I’m not hungry.” He felt sick to his stomach.
“I am. Come on.”
Simon walked silently alongside Zach, his mind numb.
“How’s Cat holding up?” Zach asked.
“She’s a mess.”
Zach nodded. “She’s scared, Simon. Ever since she was sixteen, Cat has always been afraid of herself.”
That statement pierced hot and then cold. Cold enough for him to shiver. Cold enough to wonder if perhaps he shouldn’t take Cat up on her offer to take custody of Opal.
Cat may have uttered sheer nonsense in the heat of the moment, but Simon wasn’t too keen on the idea of Opal growing up afraid of her mother’s issues. Cat had a way of curling into herself when something bad happened and now he knew why. Another accident might send her over the edge, never to return, and then what?
Simon knew all too well what it was like tiptoeing around an unstable parent. He’d never had a father who might have balanced things out. But then, his father also could have made things much worse.
What would he be for Opal?
More ice-laced fear shot through him, but he knew he had to give Opal his all. As Cat had said, truly providing for her would take more than money.
He and Zach walked the rest of the way in silence, each with his own thoughts. When they finally reached the cafeteria, Zach ordered a sandwich and Simon bought a soda. Choosing an isolated table, Simon sat down and waited for Zach to finish eating.
“She told me about the drowning,” he finally said.
Zach leaned back in his chair. “I was home on leave when it happened. The first responders ruled it an accidental death, but that didn’t matter to Cat. Muriel Jensen hadn’t been under the water very long and Cat had tried in vain to revive the little girl with CPR and mouth-to-mouth. Seeing the devastation in her eyes is something I’ll never forget.”
Simon winced.
“Muriel had been the youngest. I think they had a couple more kids afterward, though. They still go to my folks’ church.”
Simon rubbed his forehead, remembering Sue Jensen in his shop and the intensity of her gaze. It was small wonder that Cat had been uncomfortable around the woman. “She came into my shop today, right before your mom called me from the ER.”
“They’re a nice family. They never blamed her, but Cat still blames herself.” Zach shrugged before continuing. “Even with counseling, she never babysat again. She wouldn’t even look after our little sister and brother.”
Simon considered his friend’s words. Of course, Cat blamed herself—a natural reaction. Her fear of somehow hurting Opal because of carelessness might be natural too.
What wasn’t natural or acceptable was Cat believing she was somehow bad for Opal, or that Opal was better off without her. She’d been ready to relinquish the baby to his care after one fever. He’d almost followed her reasoning, and that was crazy. Opal needed Cat. Far more than Opal needed him.
Cat might go through this every time Opal got hurt. He’d never forget the wild look Cat had in her eyes the day Opal had rolled off the couch. Zach’s words made sense. Cat was not only afraid of herself, she was scared of motherhood. Scared of making a mistake. Another deadly one.
Simon stood, antsy to get back to Opal’s room before the doctor returned with news. Opal’s welfare was his primary concern, so he made his way back to the pediatric unit with his thoughts in a tangle.
He wasn’t sure how to handle what Cat had done, both past and present. Even though he believed what had happened with that Jensen girl had been an accident, what doubts might rise to the surface every time Opal took a tumble? Would he look for fault in Cat every time? Would he be able to stop her from looking for fault in herself?
That was no way to live and certainly no way to have a relationship. He wasn’t sure he could trust her...and it seemed as though she still wasn’t ready to trust him. Cat hadn’t called him when Opal was at her most vulnerable, and Simon wasn’t sure he could forgive her for that.
* * *
Cat looked up when Simon returned. He seemed more remote than ever. Without even one glance her way, he sat in the chair next to Opal’s crib. He reached over the lowered side and held their daughter’s hand. The one free of the IV.
Cat looked away. Whatever they might have had was gone.
Her mom got up and brushed back Cat’s hair. “I’m going to run home and get your father. He made reservations at a hotel nearby, so I’ll bring back an overnight bag for you. Call me if anything changes, okay?”
“Okay. Grab a couple of those bottles in the fridge, and my laptop. Please.” She had no idea if she’d be able to feed Opal well enough.
The nurse said the fever had come down some, yet Opal still slept hard, looking much too lifeless. They had Wi-Fi here, and Cat wanted to research these fever procedures as much as possible on a bigger screen than her phone.
“It’ll be okay, honey. Opal is a healthy baby. She’ll pull through,” he
r mother whispered.
“I hope so.” As long as those cultures came back negative, they’d be okay. But they wouldn’t know those results for a couple of days. Her bloodwork was quicker, but they hadn’t heard anything yet on that.
Her mother gave her a pointed look toward Simon.
Cat drew her legs up against her chest, wrapping the blanket she’d grabbed from the adult bed around herself. There wasn’t much else to say. He knew all about her now and it was obvious that he didn’t want anything more to do with her.
Her mother patted her arm and left.
Cat stared out the window at the snowflakes falling gently from the sky. Opal’s room faced west, where the sun had dipped low, behind a mountain of clouds, turning the horizon pink and darker purple. It’d be dark soon.
She needed to feed Opal, even though her body drew in on itself, empty. Like her.
Closing her eyes, Cat uttered a silent prayer, Dear Lord, please heal Opal. Punish me, not her. I’ll give up anything, everything, if You’ll make her well.
The sound of Opal’s breathing echoed in her ears. She labored as if her nose might be stuffed. If only this might be nothing more than a common cold, but would a simple cold cause such a high fever and seizure?
Minutes went by and silence still stretched between her and Simon.
“Zach told me about the Jensen girl, how you tried hard to save her.” Simon’s voice was soft and low, but it still sounded too loud in the quiet room. “It wasn’t your fault, Cat. An accident.”
Cat locked on to Simon’s gaze. “Does that matter? I could have prevented that accident. I could have made sure she didn’t go near the dock. I could have kept her inside. I could have paid better attention.”
“You were only sixteen.” He looked at her now, but the anger remained in his eyes. The disappointment.
“Old enough to know the danger of small kids around a lake.”
“You’ve got to let it go. Opal needs you, so you might as well drop the idea of giving her up. Living in the past won’t help her future.”
Cat stared at him. He was one to talk about letting the past dictate choices. But then, he was right about Opal needing her. Could she really leave her own daughter? “What about our future?”