After the Storm

by Janet Dailey

  "I think that calls for a change of subject," Lee exhaled slowly. "I'm sure it would be in bad taste to express my blatant dislike of the man you were once married to. So what do you say? How about me helping you with the dishes?"

  "That won't be necessary. I planned to stack them in the sink and leave them till morning."

  "It's hardly a romantic way to spend an evening," Lee admitted, rising from the couch and extending a hand to Lainie. "But we can always put on some music to do the dishes by and liven it up."

  Lainie hesitated before giving in to his captivating smile. "You find the record while I run upstairs to check on mother."

  Rad's name was not mentioned again the entire evening. Lee set out to be amusing and succeeded, drawing bubbly laughter from Lainie. It had been so long since she had laughed like that that she was sorry to see the evening end. He had not made her feel in the least ill at ease, accepting without a word her need to check on her mother at different times in the evening, yet not bringing up her mother's condition or expecting her to recount the details of her illness. So if her goodnight kiss seemed overwarm and she lingered in his arms, it was out of gratitude. It was only later in her room alone that she wondered whether gratitude could turn into love.

  The sunlight hours shortened and the wind shifted out of the northwest and the Rocky Mountains. Summer had drawn to a close. The quaking aspens were turning to a golden shade so like the precious metal that came from the mountains. Mother Nature was having her one last fling, painting the countryside with rampant splashes of scarlet reds, golden yellows, and rusty orange, before Old Man Winter set in. The days became brisk and the invigorating air from the upper reaches of the mountains began turning noses and cheeks a healthy shade of pink.

  It was a time of harvesting, of preparing for the winter ahead. The cut logs that had lain forgotten the summer long were suddenly being brought into homes to be used as fuel for the bright cheery fires. Children began dreaming of hobgoblins and witches and ghosts. Pumpkins became transformed into jack-o'-lanterns while luscious red apples were covered with caramel and stuck on a stick.

  Clothes of lightweight synthetics and cotton were stored away and sweaters, tweeds, and woolens were shaken free of the mothballs that had lain dormant with them through the warm season. Tennis and swimming were replaced with talk of football, hunting, and speculation of snow. The perennially snowcapped higher regions of the Rockies had already received a fresh cover of snow. Winter itself was a cold breath away.

  For Lainie, the autumn hadn't been a time for jubilant celebration. There was no time for making merry in anticipation of the cold months, ahead. There had been hours enlivened with the presence of Lee or Ann, but for the most part her worries had increased. So gradually that even Lainie herself hadn't noticed it immediately, her mother's condition had worsened. The doctor's visits had become more frequent and his face had grown longer. New treatment was tried and failed. Lainie was beginning to feel that the only thing that increased were their debts. She could no longer make their monthly income match their monthly expenditure. Her mind had turned repeatedly to Rad's offer and her pride kept shutting the door. Although she had thought he might contact her again, he never did. She tried to be glad about that, but she wasn't.

  Footsteps on the stairs interrupted her vigil in the kitchen. As she reached the door to the hallway, she was met by the portly figure of Doctor Henderson. His smile was grim and his eyes were sympathetic. In a fatherly gesture he put his hand on Lainie's shoulder and turned her back toward the kitchen.

  "Make me a cup of coffee, would you, Lainie, and heavy on the sugar." The doctor settled his stout frame on one of the chairs at the table while Lainie filled his request.

  She refilled her own stoneware cup and carried both to the table. Her acquaintance with Doctor Henderson preceded her mother's illness, going back to the time when her father was alive, so it was more than intuition that told her that the news he had was unpleasant. She watched his spoon make repeated trips to the sugar bowl as turned his coffee into a form of syrup.

  "Strong and sweet," he smiled, sipping his coffee and smacking his lips in satisfaction. He glanced thoughtfully at Lainie. "Like you, little Lainie, but of course you're not little anymore. Like my German grandmother used to say, 'We grow too soon old and too late smart.' But I'm getting off the track," he sighed. "Your mother has deteriorated rapidly in the last couple of months. You only have two choices in front of you. Both of them will probably require hospitalization, or at the very least, round-the-clock nursing here at home."

  "What do you mean by two choices?" Lainie asked. Her hands firmly circled the cup, needing the warmth to ward off the sudden chill.

  "You've known for a long time that her condition was terminal. You've been a doctor's daughter too long for me to beat around the bush. Your mother is an eyelash away from the last phase." Doctor Henderson looked her squarely in the eye. "There's a chance-now just a chance-mind you, that if she is hospitalized, there's some new treatment being tried that may prolong her life for a few months and possibly reduce some of the pain she's suffering."

  "And the other choice?" Lainie prompted.

  "And the other choice is to let the illness take its course. Her pain will increase and sedatives will no longer give her relief. And the results will remain the same. She'll die."

  His blunt words turned Lainie's head down and away. It was a cruel game of Hobson's choice. Either door she chose would open to yawning blackness.

  "I couldn't bear to watch my mother's face become twisted with the agony of pain," Lainie murmured. "I don't know where I'll get the money to pay for it, but I want her to have this new treatment."

  The surgeon's hands reached out to cover Lainie's. "I wish you weren't so alone," he sighed, squeezing her hands before he rose from the table. "I'll make arrangements for her to enter the hospital the day after tomorrow."

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  Chapter 5

  THE HOSPITAL CORRIDOR was bustling with nurses, technicians and aides. The green and gold tweed suit that Lainie wore, so perfectly tailored, suggested a wealth that she didn't possess as she walked beside her mother being wheeled down the corridor. The hopelessness of the situation had struck her forcibly after Doctor Henderson had left. The desire to flee from the responsibility her decision would bring was strong. But it had been a passing fear, one she could overcome. Looking down on her mother's wan face, Lainie knew her compassionate decision had been correct. Her mother was weak; therefore Lainie must be strong.

  They had arrived at her mother's room. One of the aides was holding the door open. Lainie followed, glancing around at the other occupants of the room uneasily. One of the women smiled back at Lainie welcomingly. Another older woman was sleeping. The two aides were carefully shifting her mother from the cot to the hospital bed. The movement seemed to lift her mother out of the state of lethargy she had been in, and Lainie watched the dull blue eyes take in her surroundings. Then the frightened and questioning gaze was turned on the two aides.

  "This isn't my room," her mother insisted with a weak yet imperious air. "You've taken me to the wrong room."

  "I'm sorry, ma'am. This is where we were told to take you."

  "It's a mistake." Mrs. Simmons's head moved fretfully against the pillow. "Somebody's made a mistake. Lainie, you must check on it at once."

  "Yes, mother, I will." Lainie moved forward to still her mother's nervous fingers picking at the bed's coverlet.

  "You know I always have a private room." It was a plaintive, protesting cry.

  "We could pull the dividing curtains," one of the aides suggested gently.

  "Would you, please?" Lainie replied, smiling at the thoughtful and considerate offer.

  The beige curtains were pulled, but they did little to alleviate her mother's distraught condition. The younger aide smiled sympathetically at Lainie before the two of them wheeled the portable cot out of the room.

  Lainie had known her mother wo
uld be upset when she discovered she would have to share a room with other patients. But the admissions clerk had been adamant when Lainie had requested a private room. The bills from her mother's previous hospitalizations had not yet, been paid, although Lainie had made monthly payments toward them. The clerk had told her that the hospital didn't feel it would be fair to Lainie or to themselves to add the extremely high cost of a private room.

  It was such a logical statement that Lainie couldn't argue against it. She had hoped to persuade her mother to become reconciled to other patients in the room, but the furtive glances that her mother was casting toward the unseen people beyond the curtain led her to believe it was a hopeless wish.

  "I can't stand to have those people watching me," her mother whispered.

  "But they can't see you," Lainie replied calmly.

  "But they're just on the other side. I have no idea who they might be. They're complete strangers." She clutched Lainie's hand tightly. "You must do something."

  Before Lainie could reply, the curtains were parted and a nurse in a sparkling white uniform and starched cap walked in. With an instinct born of long association with overwrought patients, the nurse immediately sensed the tension. She glanced briefly at Lainie before turning a bright, cheery smile toward the frail woman in the hospital bed.

  "I'm Nurse Harris." The friendly voice was meant to put the patient at ease. "I see you've established your own private nook."

  "There's been a mistake, nurse. I'm supposed to have a private room. "

  The urgent, almost sobbing statement brought a startled glance from the nurse to Lainie, who gave a brief, negative shake of her head.

  "Let's see, your doctor is Doctor Henderson," the nurse said as she consulted the chart at the end of the bed. "Perhaps you should discuss this error with him. He should be making his rounds shortly. I'm sure he'll take care of everything to your satisfaction."

  This seemed to mollify Lainie's mother slightly. "It's just that you never know who's in the room with you." The snobbish ring in Mrs. Simmons's voice made the nurse's smile stiffen, while the color rose in Lainie's cheeks.

  "They're all human beings in need of care," the nurse replied a trifle sharply. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have other duties. The doctor will be with you shortly."

  "I certainly wish Lawrence would come," her mother whimpered, referring to Doctor Henderson, after the nurse had left the room.

  Lainie seated herself in the chair alongside the bed. But it was nearly a quarter of an hour later before Doctor Henderson arrived. He was accompanied by a tall, slender, balding man with dark rimmed glasses, introduced as Doctor Gordon, a specialist in the field of her mother's illness. The pair had barely begun their examination when Mrs. Simmons began complaining about being in the room with other patients. Doctor Henderson attempted to laugh off her fears, but it only served to make her increasingly nervous.

  Leaving Doctor Gordon to continue the examination, Doctor Henderson motioned for Lainie to step out of the room with him. She quietly explained the hospital's position and he nodded understandingly but ruefully. Minutes later they were joined by Doctor Gordon.

  "What seems to be the problem? Surely this hospital has a private room available?" he asked.

  "It does," Doctor Henderson agreed. "But perhaps we could convince Mrs. Simmons to the contrary.

  Then he went on to explain the situation to Doctor Gordon.

  The specialist's reaction to the news was unfavorable. "I can appreciate your problems," Doctor Gordon addressed Lainie. "But unfortunately, if your mother's agitation persists, it may negate any progress these treatments might make."

  THE MORNING MOVED to noon; the noon moved to afternoon and the afternoon moved to evening. Despite Doctor Henderson's assertion that there were no private rooms available, Mrs. Simmons only became more distressed. He was forced to put her under heavy sedation before her nerves drove her to a progressively worse state of relapse. Lainie realized the only solution to the problem was money; but what few items at home that were of any value at all would not fetch enough money to make a dent in the hospital bill. If she had only accepted Rad's offer… But she tried to banish that thought from her mind.

  The magazine lay closed in her lap as she tried to think herself out of the situation. The lobby of the hospital floor was nearly empty. But Lainie wasn't interested in the other occupants, or the potted plants that were supposed to block out the clinical atmosphere, or the antiseptically clean, vinyl-covered sofas. She was so wrapped up in her dilemma that she didn't notice Ann or her husband Adam walk into the room followed by Lee Walters, and jumped convulsively when Ann's hand touched her shoulder.

  "How's your mother?" Ann inquired as she settled in a seat beside Lainie.

  "Not very good. She's sleeping, but they had to give her a sedative." Lee brushed her cheek with a light kiss that Lainie barely noticed.

  "It's a good thing that we came tonight," Ann decreed, "to take, you out of that pensive mood."

  "Is anything seriously wrong?" The look in Lee's eyes mirrored the concern felt by all three at Lainie's serious expression.

  "It's mother," Lainie sighed. "Being in a room with strangers makes her very nervous and our finances won't stretch to cover a private room. The specialist is afraid it might be detrimental to the treatments." A humorless laugh escaped her lips. "I guess I was hoping to conjure up a money tree."

  Morosely grim glances were exchanged between Ann and her husband. Lainie felt immediately chagrined that she had introduced a subject that not only was depressing, but also, so far, unsolvable. It wasn't fair to burden her friends with her problems.

  "Before the storm clouds that are gathering over our heads break out with rain-" Lainie smiled brightly, if a little falsely "-I think we should leave. Shall we all go down to the coffee shop?"

  "I think that's an excellent idea," said Lee, offering his arm to Lainie.

  For almost an hour they sat around the table in the coffee shop, but their laughter and lighthearted attempts at conversation were stilted. The atmosphere around them was pierced with artificiality. The periods of tense silence grew more frequent as Lainie's face grew more drawn, the nagging worry pricking the back of her mind. After one prolonged silence, Lee's hand reached under the table and found hers. It was a comfort to know that he was standing by if she needed him.

  "You're a lawyer, Adam!" Ann burst out suddenly. "Why couldn't Lainie sell the house?" She glanced apprehensively at Lainie, fearing her impulsiveness had put her nose in where it didn't belong. "I mean, after all, it is a large, rambling old house. It must be frightfully expensive to keep the old thing running, what with the cost of heating and all. It's in a good neighborhood, so it shouldn't be too difficult to sell it. It's probably a lousy suggestion," she ended lamely.

  "No, it's not." The words of agreement were hesitant as Lainie spun the thought around in her mind, gradually warming to it. "I've suggested it before to mother. She could never bring herself to part with it, but now…" Lainie couldn't bring herself to give voice to the fact that it was a possibility that her mother would never leave the hospital. "Is it possible, Adam?"

  "Theoretically, yes," he agreed haltingly. "The house is solely in your mother's name?"

  Lainie nodded that it was.

  "Without checking further into it," he continued, "I would say that you'd either have to get your mother's permission or you'd have to have a doctor certify that she was physically incapable of handling her own affairs. In that case, the courts would probably allow you to act in her behalf."

  "Then it could be done," Ann cooed with glee. Her eloquent blue eyes sparkled merrily at Lainie. "What luck that we have both a lawyer and a real estate man here! How fast would you be able to sell the house?" She turned eagerly toward Lee.

  Ann's excitement was contagious. Lainie could feel the hope building inside her. It was as if the first star had been revealed in the dark evening sky. This suddenly seemed to be the answer to her problem. She, too, turned
toward Lee hopefully, waiting anxiously for his opinion. But Adam wasn't finished.

  "You understand this will take a certain amount of time." His cautious words were unwelcome and earned him a glaring look from his wife. "Not months, but certainly a few days."

  Time was a factor, Lainie acknowledged inwardly. She didn't want to delay any longer than was necessary in finding a solution. Without being told, she knew it was essential to have her mother moved to a private room as soon as possible. She turned back toward Lee, looking for encouragement.

  "I'd like to tell you I could sell the house tomorrow." His gaze was filled with compassion as he held hers. "But I can't. It's a case of supply and demand, and right now, the supply outweighs the demand."

  "You mean you couldn't sell the house?" Ann cried out, knowing she had unwittingly raised Lainie's hopes falsely.

  "I have no doubt I could sell the house - in time."

  Her evening star turned into a shooting star that faded out of sight. Still Lainie's gaze clung to Lee's apologetic face, trying by force of will to make him relight her dream.

  "It would be cruel to tell you differently," Lee continued. "It could take a day, a week, a month, or more. There's just no way to predict."

  "That pretty well squashes that," Adam said grimly, throwing off the switch that had briefly brought light to Lainie's darkness.

  "I refuse to give it up!" There was a suggestion of a pout around Ann's mouth. Her hand tugged at her husband's sleeve impatiently. "We can talk to our parents, persuade them to buy the house as an investment.

  "No!" Lainie forcefully rejected such a plan. "I refuse to allow my friends to take that kind of risk. I'll find some other way to raise the money."

  "But there isn't any other way," Ann protested. "What kind of risk would they be taking! After all, they would be buying the house."