Patchwork Family

by Bonnie Tharp

  “They won’t let us see her,” he said.

  “She can’t have visitors right now,” Tillie confirmed.

  “Then we’ll wait.” Joe sat down beside Tillie, putting his arm around her.

  Megan sat beside her brother, but didn’t speak. Heaving a sigh, she settled in to wait.

  Pacing the room, Peggy fought back tears. “What’s going on?”

  “Let’s go up to CICU and park in their waiting room. It’s closer to your grandmother,” Tillie said. “I just came down here to wait for you guys. It’s altogether too quiet up there alone.”

  The sliding glass doors swished as Regina strode in, flipping her braid back over her shoulder. Sam was right behind her, a scowl on his face. She stopped in front of Tillie, put her hands on her hips. “Where’s Annabelle? And what in the hell happened?”

  Standing as tall as her five feet would allow, Tillie laid a hand on her friend’s chest. “She’s in CICU. She’s had a heart attack, and that’s about all we know. We’re going upstairs to wait. Care to join us?”

  Regina stepped over to the elevators. “Let’s go.”

  Grasping Regina’s arm, Sam whispered in her ear. “Wait just a moment, please. I have to speak with you.”

  She looked into his eyes, recognizing the seriousness of his request. Regina turned to Tillie. “We’ll meet you upstairs in just a minute.”

  Megan tugged on Regina’s hand. “We have to hurry. She’s really bad.”

  Hunkering down, she hugged the young girl. “Don’t you worry, honey. Your grandmother’s a Morgan. We’re made of sturdy stock. We’ll see you up there in just a moment.” She kissed Megan’s cheek and turned her toward the elevator doors as they opened.

  After they closed, she turned back to Sam and crossed her arms over her chest. “What is so urgent that it couldn’t wait until after we’ve seen about Annabelle?”

  A group of medical personnel were walking toward them. Sam motioned her into an alcove with a window overlooking the parking lot. He waited for the staff to leave, cleared his throat and gripped her hand. “You need to talk with Annabelle, right away.”

  “About what?”

  “All I can tell you is—she has something to tell you.”

  “Did she call you? Why not Tillie, or me, for that matter?” She pulled her hand free, clenching it in a fist. “What is going on?”

  Shoving his hands in his pockets, he stared into her flashing blue eyes. “Talk to Annabelle. She has something to tell you.”

  “What? Why? Sam, talk to me.” Regina laid her hand on his broad chest. “Please, tell me.”

  “Honey, attorney-client privilege prevents me from telling you, I’m sorry.” Taking her hand in both of his, he swallowed. “You have to trust me.”

  She pulled her hand free. “What the hell is this?”

  “Honey, you have to talk to Annabelle.”

  Regina turned her back on him and faced the glass. “What could be so important that you can’t talk about it? Unless . . .” Spinning on her heel, she faced him. “Is it the house? The kids? What?”

  “You have to talk to her.” His normally ruddy complexion drained of color.

  “Did she do something illegal?”

  “No.” He gently grasped her shoulders. “She can explain it to you, but I can’t.”

  Regina twisted out of his grasp. The smell of cleansers and sickness clogged her nose.

  “For pity’s sake . . .” She twisted the end of her braid around her finger. “I don’t have time for this nonsense.”

  “Just talk to her, okay? And trust me.” His hands hung at his sides.

  “How can I trust you when I don’t even know what’s going on? Cripes.” Regina straightened to her full five-feet-nine-inches. “Tell me.”

  “I can’t, you know that.”

  “Convenient.” She pushed past him, jabbing the elevator button. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t come up with me just now.” The bell dinged as the doors opened. “By the time I get up there . . . I don’t want the kids to see . . . I need time to think, Sam, and right now you make that impossible.”

  “Okay. I’ll see you at home tonight.” Sorrow filled his eyes.

  Regina punched the floor number, the doors closing on her last words. “Or not.”

  Her reflection in the brass wall plaque showed a grim woman. “Oh, hell.” She patted her hair and wiped the tears she didn’t realize had fallen.

  When the doors opened, she exited into a quiet hallway. Turning toward the sound of voices, she proceeded to the waiting room. Joe stood when she entered.

  “Where’s Sam?” he asked.

  “Called away,” Regina lied. “Has the doctor been in?”

  “Not yet,” Tillie said. “We let them know at the nurse’s station that we were here. I said we’d wait until we could speak to the doctor.”

  “Good.” Regina crossed the room, squeezing between Megan and Peggy on the sofa. Tad sat alone in the corner. Joe and Tillie were in the chairs closest to the phone. A game show was on the television suspended from the ceiling, the sound turned low. Taking Megan’s hand, Regina patted it. Megan laid her head on her shoulder, closing her eyes. “Don’t worry, honey, she’s tough.”

  Peggy slumped against Regina’s other side. Regina reached up and smoothed her fine blonde hair. For nearly an hour they sat in silence, swirling in a whirlpool of their own thoughts.

  The swishing sounds of paper-covered shoes preceded the doctor’s entrance. “Are you Mrs. Hubbard’s family?” he asked.

  The expulsion of their collective breaths was audible. Regina stood. “Yes. How is she?”

  He pulled the paper cover off of his hair and sat down on the sturdy coffee table. “She’s stable. We found a blockage and inserted a stint.”

  “Will she recover?” Regina asked.

  “She should, but we’ll know better in the morning. For now, you should all go home, have dinner, and get some rest. I’ll be around until she comes out from under the anesthesia.”

  “Can we see her?” Peggy asked.

  “Not right now. If you want to come back after dinner . . . you can see her for a few minutes. And not all at once.” He stood. “She needs to rest.”

  “Thank you, doctor,” Tillie said. She put her arm around Peggy’s shoulder.

  Megan stood, reaching her hand out for the doctor to shake. “Thank you, sir.” She turned, looking up at Regina. “She’s sleeping. Let’s come back later and bring her favorite nightgown.”

  A corner of Regina’s lips lifted. “Good idea.”

  They filed out of the room, Tad bringing up the rear.

  “Come on, Tad,” Regina said. “Let’s go get something to eat. I’ll pack some things for your grandmother.”

  Tillie and Joe whispered to one another then asked, “May we join you?”

  “Of course,” Regina said.

  Sliding up beside her friend, Tillie gave her a quick hug. “Hang in there, Regina Louise, I know how you hate hospitals.”

  “I do. And if she survives this, I’m going to kill her.”

  “What’s got your knickers in such a twist?” Tillie asked.

  “Not sure yet. For now, let’s just get through the night.”

  Chapter 6

  THEY PUSHED THE food from one side to the other on their plates, with very little consumed. Conversation didn’t exist, but the kids couldn’t sit still for a second. The occasional sigh or sniffle broke the silence. Ms. Pickles sat guard in the doorway.

  “Would you children please stop wiggling and eat your dinner? Or would you prefer to eat out of the hospital vending machines?”

  “Stop being such a grouch, Regina. They’re just anxious,” Tillie said.

  Regina scowled at her best friend.

&n
bsp; When the clock struck eight, Peggy spoke for the first time. “Can we go to the hospital now? I’d really like to see Gram.”

  “Sure, honey, but visiting hours may be over,” said Regina. “We’ll clear the table and go.”

  The children scraped and bagged the trash in record time.

  Joe stood at the door. “We’ll drive the SUV. Any of you kids want to ride with us?”

  “I do.” Tad followed them out.

  Picking up her purse, Regina led the two girls to her bright red Cadillac.

  The ride to the hospital was quick and quiet. The two groups met up in the parking garage and continued to the elevators, then up to the eighth floor. Regina pushed the buzzer.

  “CICU, may I help you?” said the disembodied woman’s voice.

  Regina spoke into the intercom. “Annabelle Hubbard’s family to see her.”

  “How many are there?”

  “Four family, two friends,” Regina replied.

  “Only two family members at a time for no more than fifteen minutes. Only family is allowed in CICU.”

  “Very well.” Regina turned to face the others.

  “Tillie and Joe are family.” Megan took Tillie’s hand in hers.

  “Thank you, sweetheart,” Tillie said. “We can see her later. Right now, we’ll just hang around in case you need anything.”

  “Okay.” Megan said.

  The door lock clicked.

  Peggy took Tad’s hand. “We’d like to go first.”

  “All right. Megan and I will wait for you,” Regina said.

  PEGGY FELT SMALL entering the hallway filled with the quiet whirs and beeps of machinery. And it smelled like heavy-duty cleaner. Curtained alcoves lined one wall, while rooms with windows lined the other. The nurse’s station stood sentinel midway between them. Tad and Peggy approached the desk.

  “Annabelle Hubbard, please,” Peggy said, straightening to her full height.

  A middle-aged woman in turquoise scrubs pointed across the hall toward a green and white striped curtain. “Are you eighteen? Children must be accompanied by an adult.”

  “Yes,” Peggy whispered, her eyes warning Tad to keep his mouth shut.

  The nurse spoke, “Keep your voices down. Don’t stay longer than fifteen minutes.”

  Peggy nodded, pulling Tad in the direction the nurse had pointed. Grasping the curtain, the young woman hesitated before easing it back enough to see the person lying in the bed. “Gram?”

  Their grandmother lay with tubes coming out of her nose and arms. Monitors surrounded the bed with yellow numbers, lines that blinked or moved across the screens.

  Her hair stuck straight up in the back from lying so long on the pillow, looking blue in the lights of the machines. Annabelle’s skin was as colorless as the sheet. Opening her eyes, she blinked as if to clear the fog. “Peg? Tad?”

  “We’re here, Gram,” Peggy said. They crossed to the bedside. Peggy’s shaking hand paused in mid-air, as if a force field prevented her from touching the wrinkled fingers she loved. Neither one of her grandmother’s hands were unencumbered by gadgetry.

  Tad laid his head on his grandmother’s stomach, hugging her.

  Annabelle lifted her hand a couple of inches off the bed and Peggy gave it a squeeze. “How ya doing?” Peggy asked.

  Their grandmother cleared her throat but her voice came out raw. “I’ve had better days.” She patted Tad’s head, tugging at the tape and tubing. “Don’t fret. You’ll be fine.”

  An angry scowl on his face, Tad said, “We’re not worried about us. What about you?”

  “Shush. The doctor said I’d be okay. Where’s Regina?”

  “She’s outside with Megan,” Peggy said. “We can only stay fifteen minutes, then they’ll kick us out. Is there anything we can do for you?”

  “No, just be good for Regina.” She stroked Tad’s spiky hair.

  “We brought your nightgown,” he said. “Figured it’d be nicer than those stupid hospital things that show your . . . behind.” He disengaged himself from his grandmother and straightened his shoulders.

  She smiled. “That’s sweet. Thank you.”

  “Did we do something wrong?” Tad asked, looking at Peggy, disapproval emanating from every pore.

  “What?” One of the lines on the monitor spiked.

  “Is it because of us that you had a heart attack?” He stared at his older sister.

  “No. You kids had nothing to do with it.” The lines on the monitor rose and fell like the etching of a mountain range.

  Watching her face, Tad nodded. “We’re sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault.” She attempted to lick her lips. “Ice . . . please.”

  Peggy grabbed the cup and gave her grandmother a spoonful. Peggy felt hot, unable to look either of them in the eye.

  Maybe I’m coming down with something. Can guilt cause a cold?

  Annabelle’s lids drooped as she let the ice melt in her mouth. “Thanks.”

  “Do you want us to bring your slippers, too?” Peggy asked.

  Tad thinks it’s my fault.

  “That would be nice.” Annabelle didn’t open her eyes.

  The curtain slid back and the desk nurse entered. “Time’s up.” She put her fingers on Annabelle’s wrist, and looked at the clock.

  “Love you, Gram,” Peggy said.

  “We’ll be back,” Tad said. “With your slippers.”

  “Love you both.” Annabelle watched the blood pressure cuff fill with air.

  They hurried out of the curtained room and down the hall to the double doors. The lock disengaged so the wooden portal could open. They were both anxious to be shed of the antiseptic smell and mechanical sounds. Tad made a dash for the waiting room to pour himself onto the sofa. Pacing the length of the room, Peggy hugged her chest and struggled to keep from crying.

  It’s my fault. If I hadn’t got caught skipping school, this might not have happened.

  “Fifteen minutes isn’t any time at all,” Tad said. “It’s not fair. We should be able to stay with her if she wants us to.”

  “And I’m sure she does, but she needs to sleep, too.” Regina patted his arm. “Come on, Megan, let’s go say a quick hello.”

  “Watch out for the nurse. She’s tough,” Tad said. “She’ll time ya.”

  Peggy sat down beside Tillie who squeezed her hand.

  I’ll make it up to you, Gram. I swear I will.

  MEGAN TOOK REGINA’S hand, accompanying her to the entry to CICU. After they were buzzed in and found Annabelle, they slipped behind the curtain. Without a word, Annabelle reached out a hand to Megan, who climbed onto the hospital bed. She wiggled under the tubes in her grandmother’s arm. Snuggling up to her grandmother’s stomach, Megan sighed.

  Standing at the foot of the bed, Regina spoke, “A heart attack? You’ve really done it this time. When were you going to tell me you had a weak heart?” She swept her arm around the room, encompassing the machines before finally settling her hand near Megan and dropping it to her side.

  “Don’t scold. Didn’t have a chance to talk to you before this . . .”

  “What’s going on?” Regina crossed her arms over her chest.

  “Where’s Sam?” Annabelle asked.

  “Off somewhere keeping secrets.” Regina’s hand made a dismissive flip in the air.

  Laying her hand over Megan’s ear, Annabelle whispered. “School called. Peggy’s skipping classes. I’m supposed to meet with the assistant principal tomorrow.”

  “Oh?” Regina gripped the foot of the bed. “Is that what set this off?”

  “I don’t think so.” Annabelle shook her head. “The second call was the real shocker.”

  “Who called the second time?”

 
“Tom.”

  “The kids’ father?” Regina whispered. Megan’s eyes were still closed, but she doubted her ears were. And getting her to leave her grandmother’s side so they could talk privately was totally out of the question. “What did he want?”

  “To see the kids.” The lines on the monitor jumped up and down.

  Regina shook her head, her dangly earrings tinkled. “After ten years?”

  Megan lifted her head. “Why? He doesn’t care about us.”

  Patting her cheek, Annabelle sniffed. “I don’t know. Don’t worry. You kids will be fine.”

  The little girl smiled. “I know that.” Cuddling back into Annabelle’s awkward embrace, she closed her eyes. “I’m not worried.”

  Exchanging looks over Megan’s head, the cousins knew trouble wasn’t just coming—it was already messing with the family. “Is this what you talked to Sam about?”

  “No, I talked to him before, I mean, after the doctor told me . . . I asked him for a power of attorney. And for you to be guardian.”

  Shit.

  “Time’s up.” The nurse said, pulling back the curtain. “What the . . . ? Young lady, you shouldn’t be in that bed. Your grandmother’s a very sick woman.” Hands on turquoise covered hips, she glared at the visitors.

  Megan hugged her grandmother’s middle and whispered, “I love you,” before scooting off the bed.

  “No harm done. She was very careful.” Regina took Megan’s hand and turned to Annabelle. “We’ll talk later. Right now, behave yourself.”

  “Take good care of my Gram,” Megan said. She squeezed Regina’s hand as they passed through the curtains and back out to the hallway. “That nurse sure is grumpy.”

  “That’s her job. She’s making sure no one tires out her patients.”

  “She’s very good at it.”

  Coughing to hide her chuckle, Regina led her small charge to the waiting room and the anxious group.

  Joe stood, giving Regina his seat. “How’s our girl?”

  “Oh, Joseph,” Regina said, “She’s weak and tired. We didn’t see the doctor, so I don’t know anything new.”

  “We saw the nurse,” Megan said. “You’re right, Tad. She’s tough. Gram’s going to be all right, I just know it.”