They made love even though they were both tired, and Blaise muttered something about getting up to check Salima, as she did every night. She was always fine, but Blaise liked to be sure there was no glitch with her pump, and she just felt better if she saw her one last time before she went to bed. And she had made Simon do it while she was away, which he had. But before she could force herself to get out of bed that night, she was sound asleep, and Simon passed out just as fast. Their lovemaking had put him in a daze. And the following morning, Saturday, they overslept. It was daylight when they woke up, and Blaise was horrified to see that it was ten o’clock. She wanted to get Simon out of her room before Salima found them there. At least Teresa didn’t come in on the weekends. And by now, Salima could make her own breakfast. The house was quiet when Blaise peeked out and looked down the hall. Salima’s door was closed, which meant she was asleep too, and Simon ran back to his room on silent feet. He could tell when he ran through the kitchen that Salima hadn’t gotten up. There was no sign of her having eaten, no cereal boxes on the table or dishes in the sink, and he was relieved. He hoped she hadn’t gone looking for him, and wondered where he was. He went to take a shower, and was just drying off, when he heard Blaise calling him from the other end of the apartment. She raced to his room then, still in her nightgown, and told him with a look of panic to call 911.
“Salima’s unconscious!” she said breathlessly, and ran back, and they both guessed what it was. She was in a diabetic coma. She hadn’t eaten, and Blaise suspected that her pump had somehow failed. She had never woken up. A failure of her pump had never happened before, though Blaise was always afraid it would.
Simon called, and then jumped into his jeans while he was still wet, pulled on a T-shirt, and ran to Salima’s room with wet hair and bare feet. Blaise was sitting with her, alternately touching her cheeks and stroking her hair, and shaking her and trying to revive her. Salima was deathly pale, and her lips were blue, as tears ran down Blaise’s cheeks and she talked to her. Salima showed no sign of life, but Blaise had made sure that she was breathing. She was wracked with guilt as she looked at her. It was the first time in years that she hadn’t checked on her when she was home. And within five minutes, the paramedics were there. They gave her insulin immediately, put her on a stretcher, and rushed her to the ambulance waiting downstairs. Blaise literally tore off her nightgown, hastily put on the slacks and sweater she’d worn the day before, pulled on boots, and was out the door with her handbag and uncombed hair. They were taking her to Columbia Presbyterian, and Simon shouted that he would meet her there, as the door closed. He could hear the siren screaming as the ambulance drove away, and he could just imagine what was going through her mind. It was going through his as well. They had been making love the night before when Salima almost died.
The doorman hailed a cab for him, as soon as Simon got downstairs, and after promising to pay him double, the cab driver got him there in twelve minutes, which was heroic. Simon gave him two twenty-dollar bills and ran into the emergency room and asked for Salima Stern. She used her father’s name. He was told she had just been taken to the ICU. He followed the nurse’s directions, and looked for Blaise in the maze of hallways and treatment rooms. And he found her finally in a cubicle with two doctors and three nurses. Salima was still unconscious, and Blaise was sobbing in the corner as Simon put an arm around her and she shook him off. There were tears in his eyes too. And a moment later the doctor asked them to wait in the waiting room. Simon followed her in silence, and they were alone in the ICU waiting room. Blaise was grateful that no one else was there when she turned to look at Simon with a combination of guilt, anguish, and hatred. The hatred was for herself.
“Do you realize what we did? We made love last night, and I never got up to check her. I was too goddamn tired from having sex and I went to sleep. Her pump failed, the catheter disconnected under her skin, and she had no insulin all night.” They had told her that Salima had diabetic ketoacidosis, which could be fatal, although it was a very rare occurrence. “She could have been dead by the time we found her. And she could still die,” Blaise said, sobbing. “She was dying and we were screwing.”
“We weren’t screwing,” he said in an equally anguished tone, and he felt guilty too. “We were making love. Christ, Blaise, we’re human. You’re allowed to fall asleep once in a while. It could have happened even if we didn’t make love. It can happen. I saw it with a kid with a pump at school. You take better care of her than I’ve ever seen.”
“Not last night.” She looked daggers at him, and then collapsed onto the couch. He didn’t dare approach her, and sat down across the room.
“Do you want me to go?” he asked, gently. “I will if you want me to.” She shook her head in answer, and burst into tears again, and Simon went to comfort her, and she melted into his arms in grief.
“Simon, we killed her,” she said sobbing. “What if she dies?” He was praying she wouldn’t, and he just sat there and held Blaise for the next hour until the chief resident walked in. He took off his mask and peeled off his gloves, and he smiled at them both.
“She’s going to be okay. She’s conscious. She gave us a hell of a scare, but she’s a strong girl. And don’t blame yourselves, these things happen. For a kid with type 1, she’s in remarkably good health. I can tell you’re doing a great job with her. You can’t watch everything, or predict this kind of problem, even if you watched her all the time. The catheter just slipped out. Once in a blue moon it happens.”
“I always check her at night before I go to bed,” Blaise said, sobbing from relief now, and Simon was crying too. It had been a nightmarish morning, and it was only noon.
“Judging from her levels, my guess is that she lost the catheter delivering insulin early this morning, so even if you’d checked her, say, at midnight, it wouldn’t have made a difference. But you definitely found her just in time. I wouldn’t have liked to see her go without much longer than she did. You did all the right things,” he reassured them both, and Simon looked even more relieved than Blaise. He had been feeling terrible about what had happened and his part in it.
“Can we see her?” Simon asked even before Blaise.
“Of course. I’d like to keep her overnight just till we get all her levels straightened out. She’s going to be fine,” he said again, and Blaise hurried to see Salima, with Simon right behind her. Salima was pale, and she looked like she’d been hit by a bus, but she was smiling when they entered the cubicle again. The worst was over. But they all knew that slipping into a diabetic coma or winding up in insulin shock were risks she’d have to manage all her life. It was why Blaise had put her at Caldwell, because she couldn’t face worrying about her all the time and living at the edge of a cliff, especially if she was away. And Salima was so young then. Now at least if something went wrong when she was awake, Salima was able to recognize the signs and tell someone if she didn’t feel right. But this time it had all happened while she was asleep, so she didn’t know herself.
“You scared the hell out of me,” Blaise said as she bent to kiss her, and Salima smiled as Simon stood just behind Blaise.
“Sorry I scared you guys,” she said in a hoarse voice. “I woke up feeling weird in the night, but I thought I was getting the flu and went right back to sleep. I guess the catheter was already out and I didn’t know it.” Blaise knew she still wasn’t feeling well when she didn’t insist on going home right away. Salima hated hospitals, but she needed to be there now, at least for a day, until she recovered from the shock to her system. She could easily have died, and Blaise was so grateful she hadn’t. She thought about calling Harry to tell him what had happened, but she knew there was no point. He didn’t care.
They sat with her for a little while, and then the nurse told them that they couldn’t stay continuously in the ICU, and Salima needed to get some sleep. Her color was already better, and Blaise was relieved as she kissed her again, and promised to be back in a few hours.
�
�Bring my laptop and my iPod,” she told Simon, and he grinned. She was obviously feeling a lot better than when she came in with the siren screaming. She had youth on her side.
“With pleasure.” He was beaming when he said it. He was so relieved.
Blaise left all her numbers at the nurse’s station, and the nurse took down the information and then looked up at Simon. “Your daughter’s going to be fine,” she reassured them again. “Would you like to leave your numbers too, or just your wife’s?” the nurse asked, and Simon stared at her, not sure what to say. It seemed complicated to explain that he wasn’t Salima’s father and Blaise wasn’t his wife. He hesitated for a moment before he answered.
“Just my wife’s will be fine. We’ll be together. And we’ll be back in a couple of hours. Call us immediately if she has a problem.”
“She’s all right now. We just want to get her levels regulated, and she needs to rest. She can go home tomorrow.” The doctor had already told them, and they thanked her and left. They both looked like they’d been in a car wreck.
“I must really look like shit,” Simon said to Blaise in the elevator. “She thought I was old enough to be Salima’s father. I feel like I am.”
“I must look like her grandmother, or yours,” Blaise said with a tired smile. It hadn’t even occurred to the nurse that they weren’t a couple. “She terrified me when I found her,” Blaise said, still shaken by it, and then she looked at him sadly. “I’m sorry I blamed you for this, even indirectly. I felt so guilty that we’d been making love, and she was dying.”
“So did I,” he admitted, even though they both knew now that it had happened later, after they might have checked. But the reality that she had almost died had hit them both like a bomb. Blaise was infinitely grateful she hadn’t, and so was Simon.
“I’m sorry if I was mean to you,” Blaise said sheepishly as they left the hospital, and he stopped walking and looked at her.
“You thought your kid was dying, and I was the guy ‘screwing’ you last night, as you put it. You had every right to get mad, or freak out, and blame me. I would have done the same thing. You get a pass.” He put an arm around her then, and they hailed a cab at the curb. They went back to the apartment and climbed into Blaise’s bed and just clung to each other. He could feel that Blaise was shaking. They didn’t make love this time, and held each other, silently thanking God that Salima was alive.
Salima came home the next day, and she was tired but felt almost normal again. The doctor had said it might take another day to feel entirely like herself. And he suggested she stay at home, without running around. She didn’t even feel like singing or practicing, which was a sign that she wasn’t fully recovered from what had happened. And she went to bed when they got home. She said she was just tired. Simon called Lucianna to cancel Salima’s lesson that day, and she was shocked and burst into tears. She was still crying after Simon explained it all and they hung up.
He went to make them lunch, while Blaise kept Salima company in her room. She didn’t need supervision, but Blaise was so relieved to have her home that she didn’t want to leave her. Blaise was sitting on the foot of the bed, when Salima looked in her mother’s direction.
“Can I ask you something, Mom?”
“Sure, sweetheart. What is it?” Salima had a serious look on her face, as though she were about to ask an important question, and Blaise had no idea what was on her mind.
“It was nice of Simon to come to the hospital with you,” she said quietly. “I like him a lot, Mom. When you guys left, the nurse thought you were my parents. I thought it was funny at first, and then I wondered about something. Maybe you two looked like my parents, or acted like it in some way for them to think that. Mom, are you dating Simon? I mean … you know … I know you guys don’t go anywhere together … I mean … like … are you in love with him, Mom? Are you a couple?” It was a big question, and she could see that Salima wanted an answer. They had been careful not to let Salima know about their relationship. Blaise still wanted time for them to get used to it before they told her. But they had just run out of time.
“Kind of,” Blaise said honestly. “It’s very new. It just happened, since Thanksgiving. It’s only been a few weeks.”
“Is it serious?”
“I don’t know yet. We’re trying to figure it out. I like him a lot.” And then she decided to be more honest with her than she’d just been. “I love him, I just don’t know if it’s the right thing for both of us. Simon should be with someone closer to your age than mine. I don’t want to deprive him of that and everything that goes with it.”
“You mean like babies?”
“Yes, among other things. He’s fifteen years younger than I am. That’s a lot.” She was looking intently at her daughter. Salima didn’t seem upset, she looked puzzled.
“I kind of suspected something was happening.”
“How?” How could a nonsighted person be aware of the subtleties of a budding relationship that had only just happened? Salima always amazed her.
“There are a lot more silences than there used to be. You must be looking at each other, or holding hands, kissing, or something.” She smiled at her mother.
Blaise smiled back at her, and then her face grew serious again. “How do you feel about it?” Salima was silent for a long time and looked like she was thinking.
“I’m not sure. I really like him. I’m not used to sharing you with anyone, and that might be weird. Or it could be nice too, when you’re busy. He’s good company and he’s smart.” Blaise couldn’t help smiling again.
“That’s how I feel about him too.”
“Is he cute?” Salima grinned at her.
“Very. Are you shocked? About us, I mean?”
“A little. But I guess you have a right to someone in your life. And I think I kind of like it that he’s younger. It’s more fun for me.” That was one aspect Blaise hadn’t thought of.
“Well, we’ll see what happens. We might get tired of each other by the time you go back to school,” she said lightly. She wasn’t going to tell her any more. That was more information than she needed. She knew enough now, and Blaise was relieved that she had no serious objections. And she felt better being honest with her. She thought Simon would prefer it too. In the end, it was a blessing. Her pump failing had been terrifying, but they had come through the crisis together, and now Salima knew that her mother was in love with Simon. A lot had happened in twenty-four hours. But Salima was looking troubled again. She had something to tell her mother, and she’d been waiting for the right time. She hoped this was it.
“I don’t want to go back to school,” she said softly. “I want to stay here and take lessons with Lucianna. She helped me apply to Juilliard for September,” she confessed. “She’s going to write me a recommendation, and she could help me get ready for my audition.” She couldn’t see her mother’s face but she was praying that she’d agree. She had outgrown living at Caldwell, and they both knew it.
“We’d have to figure out who would take care of you, when Simon goes back.”
“Can’t he stay?” Salima sounded worried. She was used to him now, and he was great with her. She still missed Abby, but she did a lot more with Simon, and she had grown up immeasurably in the past two months, and could do more for herself than she ever had before. And she liked it.
“I don’t know,” Blaise answered honestly. “I think he has to finish out his contract. At least till the end of the school year. They might let him quit, but he’ll have to want that too. Let’s not worry about it now. We haven’t even heard from school about when they’re going to reopen. What about your college classes? Don’t you want to finish that?” Salima shook her head. She was sure.
“I want to study music.” And Blaise knew she had never been happier than since she’d started studying singing with Lucianna.
“Well, we have a lot to think about, don’t we?” Blaise said, and reached out to pat Salima’s hand.
“Is
that a yes?” Salima pressed her, and Blaise laughed.
“It’s a strong maybe,” she said honestly. But Salima could hear that her mother wasn’t against it.
“I really want to get in to Juilliard. And I like living at home with you.”
“I love having you at home too.” She had been gone for long enough. Too long. Eleven years. And she was great company. But what Blaise would need to make it work was someone to take care of her when Simon left to go back to Caldwell. He would have to finish out the school year when they reopened. “I think we’re getting ahead of ourselves. Let’s try to figure all this out after Christmas.”
“Will Simon stay with us if he leaves Caldwell? I mean like live with us?” Salima looked intrigued by the idea.
“Maybe. I’d like that. It’s up to him.”
“Have you asked him to?” She was curious about them now.
“Not yet,” Blaise laughed, just as Simon walked into Salima’s bedroom carrying a tray.
“Am I interrupting anything?” he asked. He could see that they’d been having a serious conversation, but both mother and daughter looked pleased.
“I was telling Salima about us,” Blaise said quietly, and for a minute he looked as though he were going to drop the tray. “Actually, she guessed, when the nurses thought you were her father.”
“I think it would be nice for you both,” Salima said generously. “What’s for lunch?” She clearly wasn’t having a problem with it, and Simon looked relieved.
“Caesar salad and an omelet. I’ll do better tonight. But let’s check your blood glucose and adjust the bolus before you eat.”
“Okay,” Salima said, sitting up in bed and smiling at him, as he set the tray down on her desk, and took care of the necessary routines. Salima was used to it. “Just think, if you stay with me and Mom, we’ll have great food all the time,” she said when she was ready to eat.
A Perfect Life: A Novel Page 17