If Memory Serves

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If Memory Serves Page 7

by Vanessa Davis Griggs


  “Lena, I was merely pointing out how good you look. It was meant to be a compliment. And as for the comment you just made about the necklace, let me say it here. No, Lena, it was not worth it.”

  Just then the doorbell rang. Lena looked at her watch. “That’s probably Richard finally getting back from his outing. Excuse me,” she said as she made her way toward the door.

  Richard stepped in the foyer. “Sorry I’m so late getting back. After we finished playing golf, we decided to have lunch at the club. We got to talking . . .” He looked at his wife. “Lena, what’s wrong?”

  “Memory’s here.”

  “Here as in this house?”

  “In the parlor,” she said as she took a few steps away. Richard set his golf clubs out of the way and followed Lena. They walked into the parlor together.

  Memory looked up, saw Richard when he entered, and smiled. “Well, well. It’s good to see you together. I guess this means the two of you finally got hitched?”

  “We’re married, if that’s what you’re asking,” Richard said with a puzzled look. He could tell he’d walked in on something; what that something was, wasn’t quite clear.

  “Memory was just about to tell me how taking the Alexandrite necklace like she did hadn’t been worth it. Come in, Richard. Have a seat.” Lena led him to the sofa, and they sat down practically in sync. “Please, Memory. Do continue.”

  Memory shook her head. “Lena, I’m sorry for what I did that ended up hurting you and has caused you to distrust me so right now.”

  “Who said anything about distrusting you now? Did you, Maurice?” Lena glanced over at Maurice and flashed a smile. “You, Richard?” She touched his hand. “Oh, that’s right. You just got here, so it couldn’t have possibly been you. I suppose that leaves . . . me.” She looked at Memory as her smile dropped. “No, I don’t suppose I do trust you.”

  “You don’t, and I can’t say I blame you for being skeptical. But I’m a different person now. You see, there was this church I was attending in Birmingham, Alabama—”

  “That’s where you were hiding out,” Lena said.

  “Birmingham is one of the cities I stayed in, but I’ve graced a few places over these past years. I’m certain you’re aware of that fact since I’m sure Sarah kept you informed of the times she’d just missed me. Sarah thinks the world of you, dear.”

  “And I think the world of her. She’s a good woman,” Lena said. “A real good woman. A strong woman who has survived a lot. And I’m telling you here and now—I won’t allow you to come in and hurt her.” She shook her head slowly. “I won’t.”

  “You mean . . . the way that I hurt you?” Memory asked.

  “What makes you think you hurt me? I knew what was up with you when you showed up on Theresa’s doorstep in Atlanta that day. All you did was prove me right.”

  “Okay, so I lived down to your expectation, which wasn’t that high to begin with.”

  “O-kay, ladies,” Richard said, holding up his hand as though he was directing traffic. “I’m sure you’re both pretty hot with emotions right now. What say we grab something to eat and table this discussion until cooler heads prevail?”

  “We’re not emotional,” Lena said. “Memory’s my mother. She’s Sarah’s daughter. Sarah’s been actively looking for her since October of 2001. And today . . . today Sarah’s prayers were answered. As we can all see, Memory’s here now. This is a joyous occasion. Memory says she’s here with the right heart and with the right spirit. Granted, all we have is her word, but her word should be enough.” She looked at Memory, scarcely blinking as she spoke. “Right, Memory?”

  Maurice got up and left out of the room.

  “I never claimed when I was in Atlanta that I wasn’t there to get back what I believed was rightfully mine. That Alexandrite necklace belonged to me, Lena. I heard that woman, Grace, who—as it turns out—was actually my grandmother . . . my grandmother.” Memory began a nervous laugh. “My goodness, the more I think of what’s happened . . . how out of control this all got . . .” Memory placed her hand to her face and sucked in a long, deep breath before noisily exhaling it.

  Lena looked at Memory and couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for her. She seemed sincere enough. Lena realized this part truly had to have shocked Memory’s system. Learning, after all these years, that Mamie wasn’t her real mother. Hearing from strangers that her biological mother was alive and had been searching for her for years now. Then to show up at a mansion and discover your mother is not just light-skinned as she probably assumed upon seeing her, but white and quite financially well-off. All of this had to be difficult for her to process in such a short amount of time.

  “Richard’s right,” Lena said, getting to her feet. “Why don’t we go in the kitchen and get something to eat? Sarah had all this food brought in, and nobody’s eaten much of it.” She looked at Maurice, who was just walking back into the room with a plateful of food. “Well, almost nobody.”

  Maurice sat down and took a big bite of his shredded barbecue pork sandwich. The sauce oozed out onto his finger as he bit. He licked the sauce off and bit again. “Mama, I’m still a growing man,” he said, talking with his mouth full. “Besides, I didn’t have time to eat anything before we left. I’m starving!”

  “Yeah, you’re still growing all right—out. I think it’s safe to say that your vertical growing days are long behind you.” Lena patted his stomach, then started out of the room. “The kitchen’s this way,” she said to Memory, who hadn’t ventured much farther than the upstairs area, mostly in Sarah’s bedroom after they managed to get her up there and in the bed. “Later, I’ll show you the rest of the house if you like. Grandmother asked if I would take you on a tour.... When you’re ready, of course.”

  “It’s quite impressive just from what I’ve seen so far,” Memory said, looking around from where she remained.

  Lena stared at her. The way Memory emphasized the word “impressive” caused Lena to be even more determined than ever to keep an eye on her.

  Just to be on the safe side.

  Chapter 12

  Like as a woman with child, that draweth near the time of her delivery, is in pain, and crieth out in her pangs; so have we been in Thy sight, O Lord.

  Isaiah 26:17

  Seeing his wife twisting and turning on top of the bed, Landris walked hurriedly to her and leaned down. “Johnnie Mae, what’s wrong?” he asked, immediately noting that her hands and feet seemed to have swollen even more.

  “I’m not sure. All of a sudden, I started feeling sick,” Johnnie Mae said, rubbing her head with one hand while her other hand rested on her basketball-looking stomach.

  “Are you in any pain?”

  “My head hurts a little. But babywise, I’m not hurting . . . just feeling really uncomfortable for some reason. It came down on me all of a sudden.”

  He stood up. “I’m calling your doctor. Where’s her phone number?”

  “In my purse.... It’s over there on the coffee table by the chaise longue.” She pointed toward the sitting area.

  Landris brought her purse to her. She took out a business card and handed it to him. Landris called the number, which was immediately routed to the doctor’s answering service. Ten minutes later, Dr. Brenda Baker called him back.

  “Take Johnnie Mae to the hospital,” Dr. Baker said. “I’ll meet you there.”

  Landris did as he was told.

  Dr. Baker examined Johnnie Mae soon after she arrived.

  “I’m going to have to admit you,” she said in her calm, soft-spoken voice.

  Johnnie Mae swallowed hard. “Is the baby okay?”

  “For now, the baby’s fine. But your blood pressure is dangerously high. Dangerously high. You’ve developed what we call preeclampsia.”

  “Is that the same as toxemia?” Johnnie Mae asked, clarifying the terminology to ensure they were talking about the same thing.

  “Yes, toxemia. Johnnie Mae, I’m not going to sugarcoat this. Pree
clampsia or toxemia can put both you and your baby at risk.”

  “What risks?” Landris asked.

  “For the mother, the most serious is brain damage,” Dr. Baker said. “There’s also the possibility of blindness, kidney failure, and liver rupture. The baby is at risk of premature birth, which, as you’re both aware, can carry its own complications.”

  “Then what do we do to fix this?” Landris asked as he looked from Johnnie Mae to Dr. Baker.

  “We’re going to put her on bed rest here and monitor both her and the baby. Our first course of action is to get her blood pressure down.” She then looked at Johnnie Mae. “Where it is right now, you’re at risk of having a seizure or, worse, a stroke. Of course, even doing this, we still have to be careful. Lowering your blood pressure can decrease the amount of blood that gets to the baby. If that happens, the baby could end up deprived of oxygen, which can cause brain damage as well as other things.” Dr. Baker began alternating her attention between Johnnie Mae and Landris as she continued. “But if we can’t get your blood pressure under control and keep it that way, you could progress to true eclampsia. And should that happen, we’ll have no other choice except to take the baby.”

  “I’m not yet seven months. If you put me in labor or take the baby this early, that will really put our baby at risk.” Johnnie Mae looked directly at Landris. “I don’t want to do anything that will harm or cause us to lose this baby. I don’t.”

  Dr. Baker touched Johnnie Mae’s hand. “For now, we’re going to see if we can’t get you stabilized using medication. If we’re successful, none of this will be an issue. But Johnnie Mae, as your doctor, my first responsibility is to ensure your well-being.”

  “And my baby’s,” Johnnie Mae said, her voice pleading as she said it.

  “We’re going to do all we can to ensure the well-being of you both. But Johnnie Mae, I want you to know. Should it come down to saving your life or allowing this pregnancy to continue for the sake of the baby, as your doctor, I’m going to do what’s necessary to save you.” She looked intensely, seriously, and directly at Johnnie Mae.

  “Dr. Baker, I understand what you’re saying, but we have to make sure this baby is all right.” Johnnie Mae caressed her stomach. “I’ll stay here at the hospital for as long as you like. I’ll do whatever you tell me to do, exactly as you tell me to. But if it comes down to me or this baby, we’ve got to give this baby a fair chance. We just have to.”

  Dr. Baker glanced at Landris, then back at Johnnie Mae. She managed a comforting smile. “Let’s not give so much attention to the negative at this point,” she said, her voice even softer than usual. “What say we just concentrate our attention on getting you better? That will be the best for all concerned. Okay?”

  Johnnie Mae nodded slightly as she looked down at her now-clasped hands.

  Dr. Baker glanced at the two nurses who had just entered the room. “The nurses need to do a few things to get you settled in. They’re also going to move you to a permanent room,” Dr. Baker said to Johnnie Mae, patting her hand twice. “Pastor Landris, will you walk out with me while they do what they need to?” She picked up Johnnie Mae’s chart and headed to exit the room.

  Johnnie Mae looked first at Dr. Baker, who was waiting to leave, then at the slightly worried expression in Landris’s hazel-brown eyes.

  Landris leaned down and kissed her softly on her forehead. “I’ll be back as soon as they’re finished. Okay?” He looked lovingly at her and smiled. She smiled back, giving him a nod of confidence.

  When Dr. Baker and Landris were far enough away, Dr. Baker stopped and turned to him. “Pastor Landris, I know this is hard. I’ve seen this happen more times in my eighteen years of practice than I care to think about—a mother insisting on sacrificing herself for the life of her baby should it come to that. I’m certain this would be the case with Johnnie Mae. I assure you, I plan to do all I can to help this pregnancy reach full-term. It’s a known fact that the longer a mother carries a baby inside the womb toward the forty weeks, the better. But please make no mistake about this. What’s happening here is not something we want to play around with. For now, Johnnie Mae’s condition is preeclampsia. That’s for now. If her condition turns into eclampsia, that’s almost always fatal. This is as direct and honest as I can put it for you. With all the advances in medicine we have today, a premature baby has a higher rate of survival than ever before. We have a terrific neonatal unit and staff here. Be assured that your baby would receive top-notch care. I need you to understand everything that’s going on because, honestly, if we have to move, we’ll need to move quickly and without hesitation. We can’t allow time and indecision to become our enemy.”

  Landris looked at her with a puzzled stare. “So what you’re saying is that it really could come down to a question of doing something that will save Johnnie Mae’s life, yet put our baby’s life in danger, or losing Johnnie Mae in order to save the baby? You’re telling me it’s possible I may have to choose between my wife and our unborn child?”

  “I hope and pray it doesn’t come to that. But I need you to know, at this point, there’s a strong possibility this could well be the case,” Dr. Baker said. “For now, though, it’s imperative that we keep Johnnie Mae as calm and experiencing as little stress as humanly possible. That can make a world of difference. Couple that with the medication I’m prescribing for her, and I’m optimistic this just may do the trick and put us all back on track for a normal, healthy, full-term-delivery scenario.”

  Landris shook his head, mostly in disbelief. “In essence, what you’re really telling me is this is spiritual warfare, and I need to be doing some serious, fervent praying before this battle gets an even greater foothold.”

  She looked back at him, and, without any hesitation whatsoever, she said, “Yes, Pastor Landris. I suppose that’s exactly what I’m telling you.”

  Chapter 13

  But now, O Lord, Thou art our father; we are the clay, and Thou our potter; and we all are the work of Thy hand.

  Isaiah 64:8

  Johnnie Mae heard a knock on the half-closed hospital door. “Come in,” she said. A smile came across her face. “Charity!” she said when Charity Morrell walked in.

  Charity came and gave her a hug. “How are you?” she asked, almost gushing.

  Johnnie Mae repositioned her body. “I’m feeling much better, thank you. But how did you know I was here?”

  “They announced you were in the hospital in church on Sunday. It’s also posted on the church’s Web site.” Charity sat down in the chair next to the bed. “I still keep up.”

  “I am so happy to see you. Look at you! You look absolutely wonderful!”

  “That’s what everybody keeps telling me,” Charity said. “Things are going well. But what’s going on with you? No one’s saying what’s happening with you, just that you’re in the hospital and that you’ll likely be here for the remainder of your pregnancy.”

  Johnnie Mae smiled through the thought of her rather distressing prognosis. “The doctor calls it preeclampsia, but you may have heard it called toxemia.”

  Charity glanced at the monitor that displayed various readings. She was familiar with some medical readouts. “Your blood pressure’s up quite a lot,” she said.

  “Yeah, but it’s better than it was when I came in on Saturday, thank the Lord.”

  “Well, the entire church is praying for you.” Charity sat back against the chair. “I’m glad I got to see you. I was afraid they wouldn’t let me in. Pastor Landris requested that we pray for you but for us not to come by or call because you need lots of rest.”

  “But you came anyway,” Johnnie Mae said with a grin.

  “Yes. I hope you don’t mind. I don’t intend to stay long. I just had to come see you. I know how much it meant to me when you would come by and see me.”

  “Of course I don’t mind. I’m glad you came.” Johnnie Mae pushed her body up straighter. “Tell me, how are things with you? Really.”

&
nbsp; Charity smiled. “I’m really doing well. Really, I am. I’m back in my own house again. Both Dr. Holden and Sapphire say it looks like I’m conquering my disorder. In fact, neither Faith nor Hope has made an appearance of any kind in months now. We’re all encouraged by that.”

  “Does that mean you’re completely cured?” Johnnie Mae asked.

  “I don’t know if we can go that far yet. As a matter of fact, I have an appointment with Dr. Holden at one PM. But I can say I’ve unearthed a lot about myself. I still can’t recall what happened that caused me to split my personalities the way I did in the first place. And now that Faith appears to be gone for good, I’m not sure if I’ll ever know.”

  Johnnie Mae readjusted her body yet again. It was hard for her to get comfortable.

  “Do you need me to get something for you?” Charity asked, rising to her feet.

  “No, I’m fine. It just gets tiring lying in a bed all day and night, being in one position all the time. I try and make a point to move myself around and reposition my body to keep my blood circulating. Please go on; I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”

  Charity sat back down and continued. “Faith refuses to come back and cooperate with either Sapphire or Dr. Holden. For reasons I can’t explain, Faith seemed to prefer Dr. Holden. She just didn’t care to talk to Sapphire. That’s why I’ve been seeing both of them. I see Sapphire only weekly now, and Dr. Holden once a month. I did ask Dr. Holden about possible hypnosis, but he’s not too keen on doing that. He and Sapphire both prefer the route we’re taking. So I’m meeting Dr. Holden today to see what else, if anything, we might discover about my life and/or ‘Trinity’ ”—Charity crooked her fingers and pumped them to quote the word “Trinity”—“that hasn’t been uncovered already.”

  Johnnie Mae smiled. “Still calling the three Trinity, huh?” “Sometimes I do. It just makes it easier than saying or trying to explain Faith, Hope, and me.” Charity sneaked a quick glance at her watch. Timewise, she was doing okay. “How’s your mother?” Charity asked.

 

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