A Home for Christmas

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A Home for Christmas Page 14

by Deborah Grace Staley


  “Dixie—”

  “I should take Sammy over to my place now, Doc. His sister's gonna be gettin' home from school anytime. Could you get me that medicine?”

  Janice frowned. “Sure.”

  Why did she feel like she'd just propelled herself into something she'd didn't have a prayer of controlling?

  “Delivery for Janice Thornton.”

  Janice and Dixie both turned as a teenage boy walked into the clinic carrying a huge bouquet of roses.

  “I'm Janice Thornton.”

  “I'll take care of this,” Dixie said.

  Janice stepped into the exam room where Sammy was sleeping. She gave Mable some instructions about getting some nausea meds for Dixie to take with her, then walked back out into the hall in time to see Blake rushing into the office. He entered in such a hurry the door banged against the wall before he could grab it and swing it shut.

  “Janice—”

  “Blake—” Dixie intercepted him. “What are you doin' here? You're supposed to be watchin' the diner.”

  He grabbed Dixie's arms, his breathing labored like he'd run all the way from the diner. “I called Dad to come in. It's Bebe. She needs a doctor.”

  “What's the problem?” Janice interjected.

  “She's pregnant. Says she's been bleedin' all morning.”

  “Did she say anything about cramps?”

  “Yes.”

  “I'll get my bag.”

  “Blake, can you carry Sammy to the car for me?” Dixie asked.

  “Sure. Is he okay?”

  “Yeah. Just a stomach bug.”

  Janice said, “Mable, can you give those meds to Dixie and then get me some Demerol, Terbutaline, a couple of syringes, and a biohazard box?”

  “Certainly, Doctor. Who is it?”

  Janice looked at Blake.

  “My sister-in-law, Bebe Ferguson.”

  “Do we have a fetal monitor?” Janice asked Mable.

  “Yes. We also have a portable ultrasound.”

  “We do?” Janice said, surprised they would have such an expensive piece of equipment.

  “Yes.”

  “Good. I'll need that, along with any file we may have on Mrs. Ferguson.”

  “Yes, Doctor.”

  Mable moved surprisingly fast for her size and girth. Janice walked back to her uncle's office, retrieved her bag, then found Mable.

  “Here you are, Doctor.”

  Janice took the medicines and put them in her bag. The file, she tucked under her arm while she juggled everything else. “Thanks, Mable. Do you know if Mrs. Ferguson has been having difficulty with her pregnancy?”

  “No, Doctor. She's been seeing a specialist in Maryville.”

  Janice nodded as she headed for the door. “I'll have my cell phone. Call if you need me.”

  “Yes, Doctor. If your uncle returns, I'll tell him where you are.”

  Out on the porch, Mable handed her a paper with two names and numbers on them. She performed an impressive balancing act to take it. “If you need to transport her by ambulance, call Carl. If she needs to be airlifted, call Willie.”

  “Thank you, Mable.”

  “Godspeed.”

  Blake held the door to his truck open for her. He took her bag and the ultrasound and put them away behind the seat, then he helped her up into the cab. When he was behind the wheel, Janice asked, “How far away are we?”

  “It's not far. They just moved into one of the old Victorians.”

  “Good. Why did she wait so long to call?”

  Blake's mouth was set in a hard line. “She's been trying to get my worthless brother on the phone all morning. When the cramping started and she still hadn't reached him, she called the diner.” He paused and took a couple of deep breaths. “Is she losing the baby?”

  “I don't know. I need to examine her.”

  “No offense, but can you handle this kind of thing?”

  “If she's miscarrying, there's little anyone would be able to do.”

  She opened the woman's file and flipped through it. A positive pregnancy test. No previous pregnancies. Nothing to indicate if this was a high-risk pregnancy.

  Blake slammed his palm against the steering wheel. “If I could get hold of my brother right now, I'd kill him with my bare hands.”

  “Let's focus our energy on your sister-in-law.”

  They came to a stop in front of a beautiful two-story home, but Janice hardly took time to give it a cursory glance. She rushed up the steps with Blake to the front door. “I hope it isn't locked.”

  “No one locks their doors in Angel Ridge.” The door swung open to prove his point.

  “My uncle locks his.”

  “Well, we wouldn't want teenagers walking off with drugs.”

  “Good point.”

  “Bebe? Where are you?” Blake called out.

  “Upstairs,” came a weak voice.

  Janice ran up the stairs with Blake right behind her.

  “In here,” Blake said.

  A small woman with an ashen face lay in the center of a large four-poster bed. Sweat beaded her forehead and she was obviously in pain.

  “Thank God you're here,” she said.

  Blake went to her side and knelt by the bed. He took her hand and brushed sweaty bangs off her forehead.

  “Where's Doc Prescott?”

  “He's out of town. This is his niece, Janice Thornton.”

  “Dr. Janice Thornton,” Janice corrected.

  “Right. Sorry. She'll take real good care of you.”

  Janice shrugged out of her coat. “Blake, if you could step out while I examine Mrs. Ferguson.”

  “Of course.”

  “Could you get me some cool water and a towel?”

  “Sure. I'll wait outside the door. You can get it from me when you're ready.”

  “Thanks. Bebe, how far along are you?”

  “Twelve weeks.”

  “Blake tells me you've had some bleeding.”

  “Yes. Am I going to lose my baby?”

  “I'm going to do everything I can to see that you don't. Try to stay calm, okay? That's very important.”

  The woman nodded, her gray eyes huge and frightened. Janice squeezed her hand. While she checked her pulse and blood pressure, she asked several questions to determine how much bleeding there'd been, if she was having contractions, if she'd been as still as possible or moving around.

  Not liking the answers she'd been given, Janice opened the case containing the ultrasound. She removed it and found an electrical outlet.

  “Do you know what this is?”

  Bebe shook her head.

  “It's a small ultrasound. Have you had an ultrasound?”

  “No. The doctor said there was no need unless there's a problem.”

  “I'm going use it now to see how the baby's doing.” Janice raised the woman's gown and squirted the gel, then rolled the monitor over Bebe's flat stomach. She made some adjustments to get a good picture on the small screen. There it was. The fetus was normal size. Janice rolled the wand to get a profile, then moved to get a reading on the heartbeat. She made another adjustment, praying she'd find it. She moved the wand again . . . and again. Nothing.

  “Can you see my baby? Is my baby all right?”

  Janice turned the machine off.

  “Doctor?”

  Janice took Bebe's hand. This was one of the worst parts of being a doctor. Delivering bad news. “Mrs. Ferguson, I'm afraid you're having a miscarriage. I'm so sorry.”

  “Are you—sure?” her voice broke and tears fell from her eyes.

  Janice pulled a couple of tissues from a box on the bedside table and handed them to her. “I'm sorry,” she repeated. She wiped the gel from her stomach, lowered her gown, and pulled the covers back up to her waist. “I need to consult with your OB/GYN, but I would recommend that you go into the hospital for a D&C.”

  “Oh, God.”

  She began to sob. Janice squeezed her hand and shoulder. She wanted
to hold her, but as her doctor, she had to remain detached and professional.

  “What's wrong?” Blake came into the room. “I heard—Bebe?”

  He rushed to the bed, knelt and put an arm around the distraught woman's shoulders. Bebe pressed her face into his shoulder. Blake looked at Janice, an unspoken question in his eyes. Janice shook her head. She stood and put the ultrasound back in its case.

  After a moment, when the sobs had lessened, she said, “Mrs. Ferguson, if you could give me your doctor's name . . . ”

  Bebe sniffed and pulled away from Blake. “Kendell Griggs.”

  Janice opened the nightstand drawer and found a phone book. She dialed the number, and after a few moments, spoke with Bebe's doctor to make arrangements for Bebe to go to the hospital. She hung up and explained to Bebe and Blake. Janice opened her bag and took out a syringe and a vial of Demerol. “I'm going to give you an injection. This will ease the pain and will also help calm you.”

  Bebe just nodded. The tears continued to stream down her ashen face.

  “Blake, can you call Carl?” Janice asked. “Tell him we need a transport?”

  “Is that necessary?”

  “She'd be more comfortable.”

  Janice administered the injection while Blake made the call.

  “I got here as soon as I could. Oh, my dear girl.”

  A tall woman with gray hair and Blake's eyes came into the room. She went straight to the bed.

  “Oh, Mom Ferguson. My baby's gone. It's gone.” And the tears came again.

  “Oh, my. Oh.” She enfolded Bebe in a hug and looked at Blake. “Where's Doc Prescott?”

  “He's in town with Susie. This is Dr. Thornton, his niece.”

  “I'm so sorry, Mrs. Ferguson. I'll just wait downstairs for the ambulance and leave you all alone.”

  Almost as soon as she stepped out into the hallway, her cell phone rang. “Hello?”

  “Dr. Thornton, this is Mable.”

  “Yes, hello Mable.”

  “Doctor, I've just received a call from Hoyt Crawford. In fact, I have him on the other line. His wife, Sally, is in labor. It's her fourth child and she's had all her babies at home. She was planning to do the same with this one, but there seems to be a problem.”

  “Yes?”

  “She's been in labor too long and the pain is real bad.”

  Janice frowned. “I don't understand, Mable. Labors are typically long and painful, especially without anesthesia or pain medications.”

  “She says this is different from the others.”

  “In what way?”

  “She's been in labor too long and the pain is real bad.”

  Janice sighed. “Tell Mr. Crawford he should take his wife to the hospital.”

  “They live too far away. He says they need help now. They want you to come.”

  Her? Deliver a baby outside a hospital?

  “Mable—”

  “When should I tell them you'll be there?”

  Janice set her bag by the front door and rubbed her stiffening neck. “Mable, if there are complications with the delivery, there's very little I'll be able to do without the proper equipment.”

  “All the more reason for you to be there. I'll put him through so he can give you directions.”

  “No! Mable—”

  “Hello? Doc? Is that you?”

  Janice took a deep breath and let it out. “Mr. Crawford, this is Dr. Thornton. Mable tells me your wife is having a difficult delivery?”

  “Yep. Real bad. You sure got a high-pitched voice for a doctor.”

  Janice looked up at the ceiling. “I'm settling a patient into an ambulance at present. As soon as she's transported to the hospital, I'll be happy to come to your home. Could you give me directions?”

  “Right. Well, you head outta town towards the mountains.”

  “Okay. What road would I take?”

  “The road out of town. You go a ways, and just before you come to the river bridge, you turn left.”

  Janice jotted the directions down. “Okay, does that road have a name?”

  “The river road.”

  “Yes. Does it have a name?”

  “The river road, I done said!”

  “Sorry.”

  “Then you go down to the big cedar barn just past the post office and take the next road to the left and head up into the hills. At the first fork, bear to the right. At the next fork, bear to the left.”

  Janice swallowed. She was queasy just thinking about it. “Got it. Left then right.”

  “Here's where it gits tricky. Look for the driveway at the old oak tree with the split trunk, then take the second drive after that. I hope you got four-wheel drive, ’cause most of our gravel washed down to the road in the last rain.”

  Janice pushed her hair back from her face. “Do what you can to keep your wife comfortable. I'll be there as soon as I can.”

  Janice disconnected the call when she saw the ambulance parallel park in front of the house. Bebe's husband pulled in right behind it. She quickly made several notations on a blank sheet of paper in Bebe Ferguson's file, then opened the door for two men bringing in a gurney followed by the husband.

  “What's going on here?” Cory asked.

  She took Cory aside and quietly gave him the news. “I'm glad you're here. Your wife's been asking for you.”

  He dropped his briefcase and took the steps two at a time. As she turned her attention to the other two men, she heard Blake say, “About time you hauled your sorry ass home.”

  “Blake!” a female voice remonstrated.

  “I'm Dr. Janice Thornton.” She shook hands with the men. “Mrs. Ferguson is upstairs, second door on the left. She needs to be transported to Blount Memorial Hospital.” She pulled the paper out of the file. “I have instructions here for you to give to her doctor when you arrive.”

  “Carl Jamison. I'll get that from you after we've loaded her up. What's the problem?”

  “She's having a miscarriage. I've administered fifty milligrams of Demerol.”

  “Did you start a line?”

  “No. Her vitals are stable. I think it can wait until she gets to the ER.”

  The older man nodded and said, “Let's get her loaded up, Sonny.”

  Blake made it down the stairs just as the men started up. “Carl. Sonny.”

  “Blake. Sorry about your sister-in-law.”

  “Thanks, Carl.”

  Janice punched the number to the office into her cell phone, but before hitting send, she asked, “How is she?”

  “Calmer. The shot helped.”

  “Good. Did I hear you chewing your brother out?”

  Blake's face flushed. She wasn't sure if it was the result of anger or embarrassment. “He should have been here.”

  “Well, he's here now. I shouldn't have to tell you that Bebe doesn't need to be upset further.”

  “Now you sound like my mother.”

  Ignoring that, she held up the phone. “I have to call Mable. As soon as we get Bebe in the ambulance, I have to go deliver a baby.”

  “Who is it?”

  “Crawford . . . I can't remember the first name.”

  “Sally Crawford?”

  “Yes, that sounds right. Can you take me by my uncle's to pick up supplies and to get my car?”

  “Don't bother. You'd never make it to their place in that BMW.”

  “I have to.”

  “They live up in the hills outside of town. They've got a real steep driveway, and I'd bet it's washed out.”

  “Yes, Mr. Crawford mentioned that. I thought I'd walk up.”

  He propped his hands loosely on his hips, looked away, and then said, “It's too far and straight up the side of a mountain. With you not being familiar with the area, it'd be a miracle if you found it.”

  “I'll manage. If I get lost, I have my cell. I'll call them.”

  “You won't get a signal up there.” He paused. “I'll take you.”

  “No. You should be
with your family.”

  “Mom's keeping Bebe calm, and she's got Cory to go with her.”

  “And I'm guessing it wouldn't be a good idea for you to be in the same room with him right now.”

  “Yeah,” he said harshly. “Look, I know I'm probably the last person you want to take you up there, but right now, I'm all you've got.”

  She checked her bag, as much in an effort to hide her emotions as to assess what she'd need to add if she had to deliver a baby. What if the woman needed a C-section? She pushed the hair back from her face. She hated to admit it, but she felt horribly out of her depth. How did her uncle manage?

  She should take Mable with her, but with her uncle gone, the nurse would have to stay at the clinic in case someone came in needing medical attention. She looked up at Blake, “I don't suppose you've delivered a baby before?”

  “No, ma'am. A couple of colts, but no babies.” He dipped his head and looked into her eyes, a sideways grin on his face. “I'm real good at boilin' water. Will that do?”

  Janice smiled, too, her earlier testiness with him melting away. “I suppose it'll have to.”

  “You'll do fine.”

  Heaven help her, but standing here, seeing the confidence Blake had for her shining from his pale blue eyes, she felt like she could do anything with him by her side.

  Chapter 10

  In just under an hour, Blake pulled up to the Crawford house. Well, house was perhaps overstating the matter. It was more like a trailer with a room added on to the front of it. Old, rusting cars were parked all around the property. A few old appliances added to the ambiance. On the front porch, there was an old couch, a refrigerator, and a sleeping hound who raised his head and yawned when Blake killed the engine. She'd heard about people living like this, but she wasn't sure she'd ever believed—

  “We'd better get in there,” Blake suggested.

  Janice focused on the man beside her. She took a breath and willed her stomach to settle back into its normal spot. The drive had been a nightmare of hairpin curves, dips, and nearly vertical climbs. “Right. Let's go.”

  Blake got out and came around to help her down from the truck. He retrieved her medical bag from behind the seat and handed it to her.

  Carrying the ultrasound under his arm, he followed her up to the front door. When he knocked, a dog from inside began barking. The dog on the porch peered up at them, but didn't move.

 

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