Things Remembered

by Georgia Bockoven

  “Why are you out here?”

  “Her doctors and a couple of nurses are in there now and I was in the way.” He let her go and leaned against the wall again.

  “How’s the baby?” She asked because she knew it was expected. Not only didn’t she feel the same sense of joy that had come with Jason’s and Jamie’s births, she was angry at the little girl who had put her mother in the hospital and left her fighting for her life.

  “The doctor said she’s doing fine so far. I spent a couple of minutes with her after she was born, but I haven’t had a chance to go back since.”

  “Who’s with her?”

  He frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “She’s not alone, is she?”

  “There’s a nurse with her.”

  “No family?”

  “There isn’t any family to spare, Karla,” he said defensively. “My mom is taking care of the boys and my sister’s out of the country.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply— Never mind. I just hate to think of her in there all alone.” She put her hand on his arm. “I wish I could have gotten here sooner. You shouldn’t have had to go through this by yourself.”

  “I never should have let her talk me into having another baby. I knew how dangerous it could be.”

  “As long as it wasn’t a hundred percent certain that she would have the placenta previa again, there was no way you were going to talk Heather out of trying for another baby. I’ve thought a lot about the DNA thing, and as much as I hate to admit it, I understand what drove Heather to do what she did.”

  “Well, I don’t. Why weren’t the three of us good enough for her?”

  At last she understood why Bill was out in the hall instead of with his daughter. His fear had made him angry, too. Understanding brought a strange kind of peace. “You and Jason and Jamie are Heather’s world, Bill. She wasn’t trying to take anything away from you, she wanted to share even more of herself by giving you a daughter.”

  “I’m sorry, but that doesn’t make sense. I was perfectly happy the way we were. Heather knew that. She and the boys are everything to me. I didn’t need a daughter to feel complete.”

  “But Heather did.”

  “We should have been enough for her. It’s not as if she didn’t know what it’s like for kids to lose their mother.”

  She stood so that he had to look at her. “You’re right. And that should tell you that she never seriously considered the possibility anything would happen to her or the baby.” Without conscious thought, the protective circle Karla had built around her family expanded to include its newest member. No longer was Heather’s little girl “the baby,” she was Anna Marie—someone Karla would love and protect with every breath, with every ounce of her being.

  “Anna Marie needs you as much as Heather does.” She reached for his hand. “As soon as the doctor comes out and I’ve seen Heather, I want you to do me the honor of introducing me to my niece.”

  He squeezed her hand in silent communication.

  “It’s going to be okay,” she said.

  “I’m glad you’re here.”

  “Me, too.”

  The door opened and a small parade of people came out. A tall man in a gray suit stopped to talk to Bill. After a cursory introduction to explain her presence, the man she learned was Heather’s doctor basically ignored Karla and focused his attention on Bill.

  “She’s doing better,” he said. “We’re not out of the woods yet, but I don’t expect anything to happen that will slow her recovery. Does she know she’s had a hysterectomy?”

  Karla flinched at the news. Heather would be devastated to know that the choice of whether or not to have more children was no longer hers to make.

  “She hasn’t been awake long enough for me to tell her,” Bill said.

  “She was just waking up when I left. If you’d prefer, I’ll go back in and tell her what happened for you.”

  “No, I’ll do it,” Bill said. “If she has any questions I can’t answer, I’ll have the nurse give you a call.”

  “You can expect her to be depressed—that’s natural. Even if the two of you weren’t planning on having any more children, Heather’s lost an important part of her body. It’s not something she’s going to take lightly, nor should she. As far as the depression goes, however, we’ll only worry about it if it lasts more than a couple of weeks.” He turned to Karla. “What she could use from you is someone to listen. Being able to talk about what’s happened to her, and giving her some time to come to grips with it, are better medicine than anything we’ve been able to come up with. Unless it goes on too long. In that case, we’ve got some other things we can look into.”

  “Can we see her now?” Karla asked.

  “Just don’t let her get overtired or too excited.”

  “You go ahead,” Bill said. “There are a couple of other things I’d like to go over with Dr. Agostini now before I forget what they are.”

  Karla nodded and left them standing in the middle of the hallway. The entire trip she’d tried to prepare herself for what she would see when she walked into the room, picturing everything from Heather sitting up in bed with Anna Marie in her arms to her lying with a sheet pulled over her face. The first image she nurtured, the second she forced out of her mind.

  What she’d neglected to take into consideration was the impact the monitors would have on her. On television and in the movies the machines were secondary to the drama, tucked into a corner or behind the bed. Here they took center stage, an ominous reminder that all was not as it should be with the person attached to the wires.

  Karla had to move to the foot of the bed to get an unencumbered view of Heather. She prepared herself with a smile, convinced her attitude was as important as her presence. “Sorry it took so long for me to get here,” she said softly.

  Heather tried to return the smile, but when she moved her mouth, her lips trembled and her breath caught in a sob. “I really messed things up this time.”

  Karla moved closer, trying not to look at the bag of blood dripping into Heather’s arm or to focus too obviously on how pale and frighteningly ill she looked. She leaned over the railing to give Heather a kiss and to take her hand. “How can you say that? You have your daughter, Heather. She’s here and she’s doing fine.”

  “Have you seen her?”

  “Not yet. I just arrived a few minutes ago and wanted to check on you first.”

  “Something’s wrong. I don’t know what it is, but I can feel it.”

  The sad conviction in Heather’s voice threw Karla. Was there something she hadn’t been told either? “I swear to you, no one has said anything about Anna Marie having a problem. I would tell you if they had.”

  “Then it has to be me. Am I going to die?” A tear escaped one eye and slowly rolled down her cheek. “I can’t die, Karla. Jamie and Jason need me. Bill can’t be both father and mother to them.”

  “Anna Marie needs you, too.” Karla captured the tear with the back of her finger. “Maybe most of all.”

  “She’s so tiny. I try, but I can’t picture what she looks like in my mind. I can see Jason and Jamie when they were babies, but she’s just this voice crying out to me in pain. I did that to her, Karla. She’s suffering because of me.”

  She should never have come in without Bill. “What makes you think she’s suffering?”

  “She needed me and I let her down. The doctor told me it was time for me to go to bed and stay there, but I was so sure that if I was careful, I could wait until after Christmas. If Bill finds out, he’ll never forgive me.”

  “Good grief, Heather. Is there anything you don’t feel guilty about?” The question had been automatic and one she was sure the doctor wouldn’t approve of.

  Heather eyed her. “You’re supposed to feel sorry for me.”

  Karla could tell Heather’s answer had been just as automatic. She couldn’t help but smile. “Well, it didn’t take long for us to start acting like sisters again.
”

  The smile she returned barely touched her lips, but radiated from her eyes. “Thank you for coming.”

  “You couldn’t have kept me away.”

  The door opened and Bill came inside. Karla studied him to see if she could read anything untoward in his expression. He wasn’t even aware of her looking at him; he saw only Heather.

  She moved out of his way. He went to the bed and leaned close, kissing Heather and touching her face with gentle strokes of his fingertips. Finally, he took her hand and brought it to his cheek. “You are the air I breathe,” he said in a hushed whisper. “And I fall deeper in love with you with every breath.”

  They were the most intimate, beautiful words Karla had ever heard spoken. What she and Jim had shared was an adolescent crush compared to this.

  “Forgive me?” Heather asked.

  “Yes . . . now that I know you aren’t going to leave me.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I don’t want to hear that. You were right, Heather. Anna Marie was worth the risk.”

  Karla wondered if Heather had any idea how much that statement had cost Bill. She had no doubt he really would come to feel that way in time, but for now, the reminders of how close he’d come to losing Heather were too real.

  She eased her way out, knowing she wouldn’t be missed, comforted by the knowledge that Heather had someone who would see her through whatever was ahead.

  Chapter

  24

  Karla was in love—completely, unabashedly, head-over-heels, wildly in love. The object of her attention and affection was less than eighteen inches long and fit comfortably between her cupped hands, had soft, brown fuzz on a beautifully shaped head, eyes full of questions, and her great-grandmother’s delicate ears. With hands the size of a quarter she had reached out and captured Karla’s heart.

  It had taken thirty hours without sleep and an insistent brother-in-law to get Karla to finally leave the hospital the night before. Collapsing on Jamie’s bed before she’d even taken a shower, she slept far longer than she’d intended and was in a hurry to get back to the hospital.

  The storm that had been sitting offshore for days had finally made it inland, the deluge coming faster than the drains could clear the roads. She had to slow to a crawl to make it through several intersections, the water inches deep, the traffic lights blinking a red warning.

  Karla mentally recorded every detail from the thump of the windshield wipers to the howling wind. She pictured telling Anna Marie the story of her birth one day and wanted to get it right.

  A trip that should have taken fifteen minutes took thirty. Karla made it without the radio, singing to herself instead. Most of the songs were old standards, but there was one she couldn’t remember ever singing before. It was a lullaby, its words tantalizingly out of reach, the melody strong and strangely familiar.

  When she arrived at the hospital, she first went to check on Heather. She was asleep. So was Bill. He’d pulled a chair close to the bed and laid his head next to hers. Their hands were clasped, they breathed each other’s air. This, too, she would tell Anna Marie one day. She left as quietly as she’d entered and headed for the neonatal intensive care unit.

  Before going inside, Karla stopped to peek in the window. Anna Marie’s isolette was empty. Karla’s gaze swept the room. Anna Marie wasn’t anywhere she could see. Forcefully containing a swell of panic that made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end, she motioned to one of the nurses, indicating the empty unit.

  The nurse smiled and pointed to a woman in a rocking chair, her back to the window. Karla had missed seeing the monitor wires and warming light that indicated the woman had a baby in her arms. She frowned in concentration. And then it came to her.

  Grace.

  Bill had told Karla the night before that he’d left a message on Grace’s answering machine but that he hadn’t heard from her. And yet here she was. The caring, loving woman Karla had been looking for still existed under Grace’s self-centered veneer. Whatever wrong Grace had done or would do would be forever mitigated in Karla’s mind by her unquestioning appearance at the hospital. Bill made the call; Grace responded. It was all Karla needed to know.

  Karla scrubbed her hands and put on the requisite hospital gown before going inside. Before saying anything, or even acknowledging it was Grace holding Anna Marie, she hunkered down and carefully moved the blanket aside to get a better look at her sleeping niece. Bundled snugly in blankets with a tiny knit hat covering her head, there wasn’t much to see. Still, when her mouth made a suckling motion and her eyes moved behind spider-veined lids, Karla was convinced she was the most beautiful child ever born.

  Karla moved her arm to keep from blocking the heat coming from the warming lamp. The night nurse, a man her age who looked like Gulliver in the land of Lilliputians, had explained that premature babies were confined in isolettes to control their body temperature and prevent water loss that occurred through their skin and simply through their breathing. He said to expect Anna Marie to stay in the isolette until she could perform those functions for herself. Until then, she would be limited to twenty-five minutes out at a time.

  Which meant that with Grace there, the line to hold Anna Marie when she did get to come out had grown another person longer. “How long have you been here?”

  Grace answered without looking up. “A couple of hours.” She moved her arm to give Karla a better view. “Isn’t she something?”

  “I’ve been trying to figure out a way to sneak her into my suitcase when I go home.” For now, their argument was put aside. They were sisters imprinting and bonding with the newest member of the family.

  “You’re too late. I’ve already made a bed for her in my car. She leaves with me.”

  “Have you talked to Heather this morning?”

  “For a few minutes.”

  “How is she?”

  “Still pretty upset about the hysterectomy thing. But she’ll be okay once she finally gets her hands on this girl. As soon as she does, she’ll realize that what she lost she got back tenfold in little Anna Marie.”

  This cut-to-the-basics logic was a side to Grace that Karla had never seen. “That’s good.”

  “So is this.” Finally Grace looked up. She put her free arm around Karla’s shoulders and leaned closer to give her a hug. “I’m sorry I’ve been such a bitch lately.”

  “Apology accepted.”

  “We need to talk.”

  Selfishly, Karla didn’t want to hear what Grace had to say. She was worn down mentally and physically and wanted to save whatever energy she had for Heather and Anna Marie. “Yes, we do, but not until this is over.”

  “It’s not what you think,” Grace said quickly. “I’m not going to ask for anything. Believe it or not, I actually have good news to share with you—with everyone. At least that’s the way it looks right now.”

  “You got a job?” Karla remembered the last time she’d said those words to Grace and the consequences and added, “Is it the role you had an audition for when you got home?”

  Grace smiled. “Not bad, Karla. If I didn’t know you as well as I do, you might have convinced me you weren’t asking if I’d gotten a ‘real’ job.”

  “I’ll work on my delivery. Now tell me what you’re talking about before I say something else I shouldn’t.”

  “I haven’t heard back on that particular audition, which was for a movie, by the way. The job I got is for television. Remember the pilot I did a couple of months ago?”

  “About the three women who start their own advertising agency?”

  “That was a year ago,” she said patiently. “This is the one about the family that moves to an island because the father wants to prove they can survive without modern conveniences. I’m the teenage daughter who’s pissed about missing her last year of high school. The producer called my agent to say it’s a go for eight shows. They’re going to give us a summer tryout, and if we pull decent numbers, they’ll give us a slot midseas
on when they dump the shows that haven’t made it.”

  There were more ifs, ands, and buts in Grace’s scenario than in a politician’s reasoning for not fulfilling a campaign promise. “That’s so exciting. Congratulations.”

  “Thanks. I know the odds are against us making it past the summer, but it’s nice to be actually working instead of just sitting around talking about it.”

  Karla had come to believe the talking was as important as the doing for Grace. She’d sold her sister short but wasn’t up to an apology. At least not yet. Their last few run-ins were still too fresh in her mind. “When do you start?”

  “Monday.”

  That gave her five days to get ready. “Are you shooting in L.A.?”

  “We’re using Florida for the exterior stuff. The rest we’ll do in Vancouver.”

  Anna Marie’s nurse, who was always nearby, interrupted them to check the monitor leads that snaked out of the blanket and to write down the readings from the monitors.

  “Have you told Anna?” Karla asked when she was gone. “She could use some good news.”

  “From me, or in general?”

  Had Grace always been able to read her this well, or was it a recently acquired skill? Before now Grace had never responded to the nuances in their conversations, and Karla had assumed they’d gone unnoticed. She realized now that she’d been baiting her sister, hoping for a confrontation, and Grace had been too clever to let it happen.

  “From you,” Karla said bluntly. “I think she’s waited long enough, don’t you?”

  “I tried calling her before I left and then when I got here, but there wasn’t any answer.”

  “Did you leave a message?”

  “The machine wasn’t on.”

  “Are you sure you had the right number?”

  Anna Marie stirred in Grace’s arms, disturbed by the sudden rise in Karla’s voice. “Of course I’m sure I had the right number.”

  “Did you try Susan?” An immediate, sickening image of Anna lying on the floor with her hand inches from the phone came to Karla’s mind. “What about that woman who lives next door?”