The Blossoming Universe of Violet Diamond

by Brenda Woods

  But a heartbeat, that was good, right?

  Another shock was given. A paramedic said something about normal rhythm.

  Everything was happening fast. “Is she gonna die?” I asked.

  “Dunno . . . Sorry, kid. The rooms inside her heart aren’t working right.”

  “Hearts don’t have rooms,” I told him.

  “They have four chambers,” he said. “Two ventricles and two atria . . . four rooms. And when the four rooms aren’t working right, you get trouble.”

  “Is that what’s wrong with Bibi?”

  He nodded. “Plus, looks like she had a heart attack.”

  Quickly, they lifted Bibi onto the stretcher. “Where are you taking her?” I asked.

  “To the closest hospital with an ICU bed.”

  “I’m calling my mom,” I told one of them.

  “Good. Is there a neighbor you can stay with until she gets here?”

  “No. My mom’s in Washington, near Seattle.”

  I pressed redial on the phone and Mom picked up. I was spitting out the story when one of the paramedics told me I needed to come with them, but Mom demanded to speak to him.

  The paramedic answered some of her questions and then everyone, including me, was out the door. They loaded Bibi in the back of the ambulance and me in the front. Soon the siren was blaring and we were zooming to the hospital. I clutched Bibi’s purse to my chest and cried.

  • • •

  I was waiting in a small, cold room near the emergency room when a lady opened the door and came inside. “I’m Ms. Collins, one of the social workers here. Your name is Violet, right?”

  “Yes,” I replied. The social worker had a worried look on her face.

  OH NO!

  “Is Bibi dead?” I blurted.

  “No . . . but she’s in the ICU,” Ms. Collins replied. “I know how upsetting this is for you, Violet.”

  NO YOU DON’T!

  She patted my shoulder.

  “Can I please see her?”

  “Maybe later,” the social worker said.

  I started crying. “I want my mom,” I sniveled.

  “I just got off the phone with her. As soon as she can get a flight, she’ll be on her way,” Ms. Collins said.

  The social worker offered me a plastic pack of Kleenex.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “Are there any family members in the area we can call, Violet?”

  “Some cousins.” I was still clutching Bibi’s purse and I wondered if her cell phone was inside. It’s where she usually kept it. I unzipped her purse and rummaged through it. “Found her cell phone,” I told Ms. Collins.

  “Does it have any ICE numbers?”

  “What’s that?” I asked her.

  “In case of emergency,” she explained.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Okay if I look at the phone, Violet? Maybe I can find the numbers.”

  I handed her the phone.

  “There’s a number for Lorna and Laura Diamond. Do you know them?”

  “They’re the cousins,” I told her.

  “That’s good,” she said, and reached for the door. “I’m going to call them, and I’ve arranged for the cafeteria to send you some dinner. Are you cold? I’ll get you a blanket. If you need to use the restroom, there’s one right outside the door, but promise me you won’t wander off.”

  “Okay.”

  When the food came, I mostly just picked at it. I really wasn’t hungry, and nothing but questions I didn’t have answers to filled my mind. Were Lorna and Laura on their way? How long would it take my mom to get here? If she didn’t get here tonight, where was I going to sleep? What if Bibi dies? The wall clock said nine thirty. I wrapped the blanket around me, laid my head on the arm of the sofa, and sighed. I needed to see Bibi. I don’t usually break promises, but this was one time I had to.

  I headed to the door, stuck my head out, and scanned the hallway. At the end of the hall I only saw one person, a man waxing the floors with one of those big, loud machines. His back was to me. Otherwise, the coast was clear. I stepped into the hallway and as quickly as a squirrel scurried in the opposite direction of the man. Where I was, I had no clue. But I did know where I was going, to the ICU.

  The hallways were a maze and I took a turn that led me right back to where I started. Now what? I tried it again and wound up standing in front of an elevator. I don’t know what most hospitals are like at night, but this one was like a hotel with a lot of vacancies. Suddenly the doors opened and a woman came out. By the way she was dressed, I figured she didn’t work there, but I asked anyway, “Do you know where the ICU is? I got lost.”

  “I just came from there. It’s on the third floor. When you get out of the elevator, make a left and follow the yellow line on the floor.”

  “Thanks.”

  Like Dorothy on the Yellow Brick Road, I followed the yellow line until I got to the end. The end was a pair of double doors with a buzzer/intercom and a security pad. Should I press the buzzer? I wondered. I was just about to do that when I read the notice on the door.

  NO ONE UNDER THE AGE OF FOURTEEN ADMITTED WITHOUT ADULT SUPERVISION.

  Fourteen? No way did I look fourteen. I stood on my tiptoes and peeked inside, but I couldn’t see anything. Poppy claims every problem has a solution. Hmm . . .

  “Are you looking for the ICU waiting room?” A woman asked behind me. I turned and read her name tag. It said NURSE ICU.

  Panic. Then I nodded.

  She pointed with her finger and said, “Right back there. Follow the green line to the end. And you shouldn’t be walking around without your parents,” she scolded.

  My parents aren’t here, I wanted to say, but I figured that would get me into trouble, so I just said, “Thank you,” and obeyed NURSE ICU.

  Seats lined the waiting room, and almost half of them were filled. Some people’s heads were in their hands, others were crying into Kleenex, and four people who seemed to be praying stood huddled together. A man sat alone in one corner, staring at the floor, and in another corner a TV had a picture but no sound. If Disneyland is the happiest place on Earth, this must be the saddest, I thought, and sat down in one of the hard black plastic chairs.

  I drew my legs up to my chest, hugged them close to me, and put my head down. Nothing bad like this had ever happened to me. Bad sure didn’t feel good.

  And then—someone said, “Violet.”

  Lorna and Laura and the social worker were standing in the doorway, and all six of their eyes were on me. I could tell both twins had been crying.

  “Lord have mercy . . . we’ve been looking all over for you!” one of the twins said while the other hurried toward me.

  I stood up and she hugged me, not tightly, just warm. And if there is such a thing as a perfect hug, this one was it. “We brought some of your things from Roxanne’s house, Violet, and I talked to your mother. She can’t get here until early morning. You’ll have to spend the night with us.” She dug into the tote she was carrying and pulled out my sweater. “Here . . . put this on.”

  By then the other twin was fussing over me, too, but Ms. Collins, the social worker, had that look. You know the one. The I’m-mad-at-you-but-I-can’t-yell-at-you look.

  “Extremely sorry,” I told her.

  Her lips stayed pursed, but she squinted, and I could tell she was relieved to hand me over to the Diamond twins.

  “I want to see Bibi now,” I told them once Ms. Collins had left.

  “I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Violet,” one twin told me.

  “But it might be her last—” the other one said before she stopped herself.

  “My last . . . chance?” I asked. “Is she going to die? Is that what the doctor told you?”

  Silence.

  Then one twin wh
ispered, “We’ve already prayed on it.”

  “God might need her up in heaven,” the other added.

  “I want to see Bibi now,” I repeated.

  Bibi was hooked up to all kinds of machines, one that was helping her breathe, and her eyes were taped shut. “Okay if I kiss her?” I asked the nurse.

  “Yes, it’s okay.”

  I held Bibi’s cold hand in mine and kissed her cheek. I’d just gotten her in my life and it didn’t seem fair to take her now. I didn’t care if God needed her in heaven, I wanted her here with me on Earth. “I love you, Bibi. I really do.”

  The twin who was there with me kissed Bibi, too, and we left.

  “Our condo in the marina isn’t far,” one twin said.

  “Isn’t far,” the other echoed.

  At their condo I showered, and afterward, like two identical mothers, they tucked me in.

  But after they left, I climbed out of bed and did something I had never done before. I got down on my knees and put my hands together. “I know You’re up there,” I said, “and I know You can hear me. I need You to help the rooms inside Bibi’s heart to get better. You already have my dad, so You don’t need her, too. But I do. Thank you, please. Amen.”

  42

  WAKE UP

  Early morning light shone through the blinds. I opened my eyes.

  Where am I?

  I fell back to sleep and dreamed that a doorbell rang. “Wake up, Violet,” my mother’s voice said.

  “Not now. Go away, Mom, I’m dreaming,” I said.

  A hand touched my cheek. “Wake up, V,” I heard again. This time it was Daisy’s voice.

  I opened my eyes all the way. Mom was sitting on the bed beside me and Daisy was behind her. “Is it really you?” I asked.

  “Really me, V.”

  I sprang up out of bed, hugged them tighter than ever, and cried, “Mom! Daisy!”

  In the doorway, the Diamond twins watched like spectators.

  “The chambers in Bibi’s heart aren’t working right. You have to fix them,” I said.

  “I’m a baby doctor, V. I don’t think I can fix them.”

  “You have to try. Please!” I pleaded. “C’mon, we have to go to the hospital.” I jumped up out of bed. “Where’re my clothes? I gotta get dressed.”

  I rode in the backseat with Mom and Daisy. “Are you okay?” Mom asked.

  “Nope. But if Bibi gets better, I will be,” I said, leaning into her. Sitting between Mom and Daisy almost made me think everything was going to be just fine.

  As we drove, Daisy ran her fingers over my braids. “They look good, really good,” she said, and Mom agreed.

  “Thank you,” I told them.

  At the hospital, because they only allowed two visitors at a time in the ICU, Daisy waited outside with the twins while Mom and I went in.

  The first thing I noticed when we got to Bibi’s room was the tube to help her breathe was gone. “This is my mom,” I told the man who was standing beside Bibi’s bed. “And she’s a doctor, so you should listen to her.”

  The man introduced himself. “I’m Dr. Ramirez.”

  My mom put out her hand for him to shake. “Justine Diamond. I’m a neonatologist . . . in Moon Lake, just outside of Seattle.”

  They smiled at each other.

  “Some very good news,” he said. “As you can see, we were able to take her off the respirator very late last night. So, she’s breathing well on her own and her pupil reflexes are normal. Oxygen levels are still low, but I’m very optimistic.”

  Optimistic? That’s a good word.

  “Thank you, Dr. Ramirez,” Mom said.

  I kissed Bibi’s cheek again. “Wake up, Bibi,” I told her, watching her eyes. Nothing. “What do we do now?” I asked my mom.

  “We wait.”

  “She’s off the respirator,” Mom told the twins and Daisy as we left the ICU.

  Lorna and Laura squeezed each other’s hands, uttered “Praise the Lord” at the same time, and went inside.

  Because it was such a sad place, I didn’t want to go to the ICU waiting room, but that’s where we headed. Can you guess who else was there? Victoria, Harris, and Ahmed Diamond.

  While my mom, Daisy, and the Diamonds got acquainted, I talked to Ahmed. “She’s breathing by herself now, not with a machine,” I told him.

  “Now that’s cooltastic news, real cooltastic news,” he said.

  Cooltastic. I was starting to like that word.

  Every now and then, we checked on Bibi to see if anything had changed, but by noon nothing had. We were heading to the cafeteria to have lunch when Ms. Collins, the social worker from yesterday, showed up.

  She ignored everyone and made a beeline to Ahmed’s mom, Victoria, and stuck out her hand. “So nice to meet you, Dr. Diamond. I’m Ms. Collins, we spoke yesterday,” she said.

  Victoria smiled and shook her hand. “Pleased to meet you, but I’m not Dr. Diamond. She’s—”

  Before she could finish, Ahmed pointed at my mom. “She’s Dr. Diamond.”

  Ms. Collins’s face got that I’m-so-embarrassed-I-wish-I-could-evaporate look. “Oh . . . I’m so sorry,” she said.

  “No problem,” Mom told her as she put one arm around my shoulder and reached out her other hand to Ms. Collins. “Thank you for looking after Violet.”

  Ms. Collins took out some cards and handed one to my mom. “If there’s anything I can do to be of further assistance, please feel free to call.” Then she handed a card to Ahmed’s mother. “You too, Mrs. . . . ?”

  “Diamond,” Victoria replied as she reached for the card.

  Harris spoke up and extended his hand for Ms. Collins to shake. “And I’m Harris Diamond.”

  Ahmed chuckled. “We’re all Diamonds, can’t ya tell?”

  “Of course,” Ms Collins said, then added, “I sincerely hope Mrs. Diamond will fully recuperate. Nice meeting everyone.”

  “Nice meeting you, too,” the Diamonds echoed.

  The cafeteria food wasn’t bad, or maybe it just tasted good because I hadn’t really eaten since yesterday and now that we had good news, I pigged out. Mom, Daisy, and the rest of the Diamonds seemed to like one another.

  It feels like a family.

  Lunch was over and back to the sad waiting area we went. We’d only been there for a few minutes when one of the ICU nurses came and asked us to come into the ICU.

  “What happened?” I asked.

  “She’s awake.”

  As soon as the nurse opened the ICU door, we disobeyed the hospital rules and all rushed inside. Before the nurse could stop us, we were in Bibi’s room. She still had oxygen things in her nose, but her eyes were open. I took her hand and she squeezed it. She cleared her throat and tried to talk but could only whisper.

  “Easy now,” the nurse who was at her bedside told her, then frowned as she reminded us, “Visitor policy is two at a time.”

  “Just for a minute?” Mom asked.

  The nurse nodded. “Okay, Dr. Diamond. But just for a minute.”

  Bibi glanced around until her eyes finally landed on Daisy.

  “That’s my sister, Daisy,” I told her. “Daisy Diamond.”

  “Daisy? Warren sure loved him some you. Like a daughter, he told me,” Bibi said in a low, raspy voice, and reached out her other hand to Daisy.

  Daisy took Bibi’s hand and replied, “And he was my daddy.”

  Next, Mom took Bibi’s hand in hers and held it gently.

  Just like real diamonds, the people surrounding Bibi’s bed came in many colors. And one by one Bibi admired their faces, smiled, and briefly held their hands.

  Ahmed’s words from earlier rang in my brain. We’re all Diamonds.

  43

  A TEMPORARY GOOD-BYE

  We stayed in Los Angeles until the day
Bibi got out of the hospital. She’d had a pacemaker and defibrillator put in to fix her heart, and the twins had moved into Bibi’s house for a while to be her nurses. I still didn’t want to leave, and I begged my mom, but she had to get back to work and said the twins had enough to do, watching over Bibi.

  Mom and Daisy were saying their good-byes to Bibi, but I stood alone in the hallway outside her bedroom, my back against the wall, trying hard not to cry, wondering how long it would be until I saw her again.

  Mom called my name. “Violet?”

  “Yep,” I answered.

  “Bibi wants to see you,” Mom said.

  I stepped into the doorway. Mom and Daisy were standing at Bibi’s bedside and one of the twins was sitting in a chair, reading what looked like a Bible. Bibi was propped up in bed with pillows. All eyes were on me.

  “Can Bibi and I be alone?” I asked.

  “Of course,” my mom replied.

  “Yes,” the twin said.

  When we were alone, I went in and sat beside her. After a couple of washings, my braids had come out and my curls were back. Vases filled with flowers were everywhere and the room smelled like perfume. “How are you feeling, Bibi?”

  Bibi caressed my hair. “Better and better,” she replied, then rested her hand on mine. “I’ve been waiting for us to have this time alone to thank you.”

  “Thank me for what?”

  “If you hadn’t been here and called 911, I probably would have died that day. You saved my life, Violet.”

  So much had happened, I hadn’t even thought about that. And instead of crying my eyes out the way I thought I would, instead, I grinned. “I did, huh?”

  “You did. And because you did, you and I will have lots more fun times together,” she said softly.

  “When?”

  “Your mother said you can come visit for a week at Christmas.”

  I frowned. “Christmas? That’s a long time from now.”

  “And if the doctors say it’s okay, she has invited me to go to the mountain cabin with your family this August.”