That was music to Eva’s ears. “You’re hungry? Oh, that’s wonderful! Would you like me to bring you an omelet? Or I can bring something else. You have a fully stocked fridge. Is there something you have a hankering for?”
“Mom, I trust your judgment. I’m sure anything you bring will be great.”
“I promise to come up with something really good. We’ll be there in an hour or so.”
“I can’t wait to see Anna in the stroller,” Sarah said, trying to picture her tiny baby being wheeled through the streets of New York.
“I know. Me, too. So many firsts. It’s an exciting time.”
They said their good-byes. As Sarah hung up the receiver, all she could think of was the many firsts Anna was having without her.
* * *
The therapist and her aide didn’t come back right away. Sarah regretted not getting off the phone more quickly. Given her luck, she’d likely go to the bottom of the list and get only one session for the day. There was nothing she could do now but wait. As she waited, her thoughts turned to Rick.
If there had ever been a poster child for letting the good times roll, it was him. That he’d taken their breakup hard was surprising, pleasantly so. She thought of his fingertips on hers and the sensation of his kiss. They had good chemistry, there was no doubt about that. But she wondered if there had ever been more than good chemistry. She tried to remember what they did when they were together. Sex, food, verbal sparring, sleep, exercise and an occasional drink. Were those the building blocks of a lasting relationship?
And then she thought of Anna. Defying two expert opinions, Rick had made her pregnant. She remembered how her father had exploded when she told him she’d given the baby’s father permission to walk away. But now Rick had come back, saying he was ready to do whatever it took to be with her. How could a man make such a one-eighty? It was hard for her to believe the consummate player had fallen in love with her. Then a thought crossed her mind: Maybe it was Anna that had provoked his visit. A living, breathing child of one’s flesh was a far cry from the abstraction of an embryo. Maybe all Rick wanted was a way to get access to his daughter.
* * *
Joseph and Eva wheeled Anna into the hospital room in her deluxe jogging stroller around ten, a couple of hours after Sarah had hung up the phone. The therapist and her aide had not returned in the intervening time and Sarah was ready to climb the walls.
“I was getting worried. You said an hour, Mom. It’s been nearly two.”
“Sorry, sweetheart. Just as we were about to walk out the door, Anna experienced what I can only call a blast. I’d forgotten what happens when a newborn moves her bowels. We had to take her out of the car seat, strip off all her clothes, clean her up and choose a new outfit. I had to wash her bunting and throw it in the dryer. That’s what took so much time. I should have called to let you know, dear. I’m sorry.”
“No, I’m sorry. I had no idea. Thank you for taking such good care of her. What would I do without you?” And, defying her best efforts, the tears began to well up again.
Sarah’s father tried to lift her mood. “Don’t mention it,” Joseph said. “Anna was cute even when she was full of it, don’t mind the joke.” Eva threw him a look. “What?” Joseph asked, looking at his wife. “She was cute. And very cooperative as you wiped you know what from every crevice. She was very helpful. She lifted her little legs in the air and let Mom get to all the important places.”
“Dad, thanks. Really, I appreciate everything you’re doing for us. You’ll never know how much.”
“There’s nothing to thank me for. It’s my pleasure. I’ll get a lot of mileage out of this when Anna’s older. This is a story she’ll rather I forget when she’s…let’s say, thirteen or fourteen,” Joseph said, chuckling to himself.
“No doubt,” Sarah said, unable to imagine her tiny baby as a self-conscious teenager. “Could you hand her to me, Dad? I’ve missed her something awful.”
“Of course. And she’s been missing you. I can tell,” Joseph said as he carried his bundled granddaughter out of her car seat and into her mother’s waiting arms. “Here you go. Madonna and child. Eva, where’s the camera?”
“Joe, you packed it — I think it’s in the diaper bag.”
As Joseph searched for the camera and Eva unpacked her stores for the long day in the hospital, Sarah fell in love with her daughter all over again. She laid the baby on her thighs while she untied the hood and pulled Anna’s arms out of the sleeves of her baby sack. “So you were a big poop machine this morning, eh? Made a bunch of work for Grandpa and Grandma, did you?” Sarah asked in a gentle, lilting voice. Anna looked directly at her mother’s face as though they were engaged in a conversation of the greatest import.
“Oh, I almost forgot,” Eva said. “I brought you a cheddar-and-veggie omelet and Dad just got an extra-large Ethiopian coffee from the shop down the street.” Sarah’s hunger had left her now that she was with her baby. Without taking her eyes off of Anna she said, “Oh, thanks. That’s so nice of you.”
“I’ll go and heat the omelet. While I’m at it I’ll give the coffee a little warm-up in the microwave, too. I’ll be right back.” As Eva left, Joseph captured a series of shots of the spellbound mother and baby. The therapist and her aide appeared just as Eva returned to the room with Sarah’s belated breakfast.
“Oh, can we see your baby?” the aide asked.
“Of course. But I have to warn you that you’d better say she’s beautiful because, to my mind, there’s never been so beautiful a baby to grace the world.”
The women needed no prompting. “Oh my God. She really is,” the aide said. “Look at those big, blue eyes and all that blond hair. She’s darling.”
“I know. I can’t believe how lucky I am,” Sarah said, beaming.
“You are — and save that thought, because you may not feel so lucky after we’re done with you. We’re not called ‘the toughies’ for nothing. No chickens allowed in our therapy sessions,” the therapist warned Sarah.
“Oh, you can’t scare me off. I’m game.”
“Glad to hear it. You’re going to need that motivation,” the therapist said, smiling as if to dare Sarah.
“I’m used to pushing myself. I want to try using the crutches. Dad, could you take Anna while I work with the therapists?”
“I’ll just save your breakfast, honey,” Eva said, trying to stay out of the way.
“Could I have just one sip of coffee before we begin? I haven’t had coffee in seven months and just a sip would be great.”
“The caffeine won’t hurt, either,” the therapist laughed, “’cause you’re going to need all your energy to keep up with us.”
The coffee tasted like ambrosia. Sarah closed her eyes and savored the rich flavor on her tongue. “Oh, that’s wonderful. Thank you. Now I’m ready.” Sarah hadn’t felt so upbeat since the accident.
The aide had brought both crutches and a walker as per the doctor’s orders. The therapist released Sarah’s injured leg from its tether and helped her swivel her body so she could dangle her legs off the bed. Her pain was ever present, but with both women helping, she stood up and grabbed hold of the crutches. She listened carefully to their directions and then moved the crutches forward. As she tried to move her body toward the crutches, she cried out, “Oh my God, I can’t do it! It feels like my insides are falling out. I have to sit down.”
The therapist and her aide eased Sarah back onto the bed. “Okay, take some deep breaths. This is common after abdominal surgery, Sarah. We can ask the doctor to order a Velcro-closure girdle and that will help you when you stand up,” the therapist said. “But even with that, until your incision heals up a bit, the walker might be just the ticket.”
“What happened to me? I can’t even take a single step,” she cried. “I was walking miles every day until — what — five days ago? I was swimming three times a week, lifting weights. I’ve become a wreck.”
“Think of it as a short-term in
firmity; short-term, that is, if you work your butt off. We’re going to get you moving again no matter how hard it seems,” the therapist said, not the least bit concerned by her patient’s self-assessment. “Come on, Sarah; let’s give the walker a try.”
Eva and Joseph could hardly stand to watch their daughter struggle as she tried to use the walker. She persevered as the therapist prodded her before every step — really more of a hop — with her healthy leg. Every time she made the little jump forward, she was certain her guts would end up on the floor. All the while, she had to keep her injured leg from touching the ground, something made harder by the metal fixator. The therapist kept encouraging Sarah to aim for the doorway of her room. When she reached the goal she was rewarded with a couple of minutes of rest in a wheelchair before getting up and making the return trip to the armchair next to her bed. By the time the session was over, sweat poured down Sarah’s face, back and chest.
* * *
As worn out as she was by her first outing, Sarah felt good knowing she’d pushed herself to her limit. Before Sarah settled down to breakfast, her mother pulled a lovely winter nightshirt out of Anna’s diaper bag. Joseph left the room so Sarah could change out of her drenched hospital gown. The soft jersey felt good on her skin as she enjoyed the omelet and coffee her parents had brought.
Joseph was gone for quite a while. Just as they were beginning to wonder where he could be, he returned, lost in thought and gesticulating to himself. Eva guessed the cause of her husband’s distraction: He’d been away from his lab for days and the thought of all he had to do was making him crazy. When she suggested he return to work the following day — and Sarah seconded the motion — Joseph’s relief was palpable. A plan was hatched. The next morning he’d drop Eva and the baby off at the hospital and then take the train back to Tuckahoe. Bob would meet him at the station and drive him home so he could pick up his car and some fresh clothes for Eva and himself. Then he’d get to spend the rest of the day where he was happiest — at his lab — before returning to the hospital in time for a late dinner.
Once details of the plan were finalized, the rest of the afternoon dragged on. At one o’clock the orthopedic resident, Dr. Prabhu, did what she hoped might be the final irrigation and debridement of Sarah’s wounds. Bubbe Rivka phoned at half-past two, complaining that no one had brought her to the hospital to see her first great-grandchild. At three, Sarah’s taskmasters returned for another grueling session, this time taking Sarah to the bathroom and teaching her to get on and off the toilet.
At half past four, Jeff and his entourage returned. There were smiles all around at the news that Sarah had done so well during her therapy sessions. No mention was made of the debacle with the crutches. Jeff said they would remove the IV and the urinary catheter the following morning, right before suturing her wounds. Sarah asked about the girdle the therapist had suggested and he readily agreed.
By the time five o’clock rolled around, the Abadhi family was spent. Even the angelic Anna was a bit fussy, and only her mother’s singing and swaying from side to side soothed her. Joseph picked up some pizza and salad and brought them to Sarah’s room. Anna downed four ounces of formula as Sarah learned to eat some dinner while feeding her baby a bottle. After Joseph polished off the last slice of pizza, Sarah dressed Anna in her winter sack, telling her to be a good girl for her grandparents. “No more blasts,” she ordered. Then she kissed her daughter and watched as Eva and Joseph strapped her into the car seat. As they rolled Anna out the door, the exhausted Sarah felt ashamed that she was actually relieved when they left.
* * *
Sarah had just closed her eyes when she heard a knock at her door. “Is this a good time for some company?” She would know that voice anywhere. It was Harry.
“Oh, of course. Come in. Any time is a good time for you.”
Harry was encouraged by the improvement in his protégée. Though her face was still bruised — around one eye in particular — and the cuts to her forehead remained, she looked much more like herself than she had just a few days earlier.
“I was on my way home and I told Toby I would just drop by for a few minutes. I don’t want to tire you out.”
“Oh, no, I’m so glad to see you. How are things at the office? Are the junior associates keeping things under control?”
“Two of them together are no match for you,” Harry said honestly, acutely aware of how pleased this would make her.
“You know, I just remembered that I told them to call me if they had any questions. Pretty funny, huh? I have no idea where my phone is — or anything else that was with me that day.”
“Forget it, Sarah. They can ask me if they have any questions. It’s about time I did some real work around the office. It’s amazing I get paid what I do,” Harry said, grinning like the Cheshire cat.
“Hey, you had your chance to work like a dog doing the grunt work we associates slave over,” Sarah smiled. “Plus, you bring in the big accounts. With your book of business, you’re worth your weight in gold.”
“Well, that’s true. I’m sure the partners would prefer I stay rather than leave and take my clients with me.”
“No doubt about it.”
“So kid, you’re looking good, really good. How’s the baby?”
“Oh, she’s just perfect.” But remembering her relief when Anna was wheeled away made her tear up.
“Hey, it’s hard having a baby under any circumstance, but yours takes the cake. Cry all you want, though I have to admit that I actually hate when women cry.”
That made her laugh through her tears. She grabbed a tissue, dried her eyes and blew her nose. “There, I’m good again.”
“Good, because I have some business to discuss with you.”
Sarah brightened. “Go ahead, I’m all ears.”
“Now stop me anytime you’ve heard enough. I mean it, Sarah. You’ve had a terrible trauma.”
“Go ahead. It’s okay. Tell me,” Sarah said eagerly.
“Do you have any idea who owned the project that led to your accident?”
“No. All I know is that it was going to be condos. I heard it on the news.”
“Well, Mark Arkin was the developer. Apparently — according to the crane operator’s widow — Arkin Worldwide pressured the contractors to go full throttle, cutting corners whenever possible to get that building completed and generating revenue,” Harry explained in a revelatory tone. “With the economy in the toilet and credit dried up, apparently he was having a tough time. He’s not one to suffer alone, so he put the squeeze on the contractors.”
“I saw the widow on television. She was beside herself.” Sarah closed her eyes and remembered the swaying crane. “I saw that crane cab, Harry. Oh, that poor man.”
“Sarah, we don’t have to talk about this. I’m a blockhead to bring it up.”
“Tell me what you came to say. I want to hear it. I do.”
“Apparently, Arkin read about you in the paper. There was an article on the people involved in the accident. It was the worst construction accident in New York’s recent history, so the media are having a field day. You know how that goes. Tragedy sells,” Harry explained apologetically. “So apparently Arkin recognized your name, did his homework and contacted me today about a settlement.”
“A settlement? I haven’t even thought about filing suit,” Sarah said.
“The bastard’s using the approach we used on him. He did everything in hypotheticals, of course, but intimated that if he was indirectly responsible for your pain and suffering, he would want to make you whole. And he added that he’d prefer to ‘do the right thing’ and ‘bypass the whole liability labyrinth.’ Those were his exact words. He even paid you a compliment by saying how impressed he was by your representation of the hospital.”
“What do you make of it, Harry?”
“Well, you know what I think of him. He’s a schmuck of the highest order — and he feels the same about me, which is why I was surprised when he called.
You should have heard him. He actually sounded contrite. Whether he is or not is beside the point. You’ll have to give some thought to his offer though, regardless.”
“Did he mention a figure?” Sarah asked.
“Well, he didn’t show his hand, but he intimated it would be high six figures. He’s got insurance, but still, that’s a tidy sum,” Harry offered.
“I guess so.” Sarah got quiet for a few moments. “I’ve got to tell you, Harry, I’m not really up to making a decision right now. Is the offer time sensitive?”
“He gave no date but was clear that he wanted this over and done with sooner rather than later — and confidentially. Oh, and there’s one more piece I forgot. He said that, hypothetically speaking, if he was responsible in any way for your injuries, he’d want to apologize to you in person.”
“Are you kidding?”
“Nope. That’s what he said.”
“Harry, look, I’m going to need someone to represent me. I’d like you to consider taking that on. I’ll understand if you’d rather not. You hate Arkin and the case is out of your area of practice. But please think about it.”
“Well, I’d only do it if I could do a good job for you. Let me talk with a guy from the San Francisco office who does construction law. I worked with him years ago on an outbreak case of Legionnaires’ disease caused by a hospital’s faulty ventilation system. He was a good man to partner with then and he’s an overall good guy. Not a son of a bitch like me. I’ll see what he thinks.”
“Harry, you’re the nicest son of a bitch I know. You really are.”
“If that’s a compliment, I’ll take it under advisement.”
“I mean it, Harry. You’re a great boss to work for. You have no idea how much I appreciate how kind you’ve been to me,” Sarah said.
“Well, I was trying to be a nice guy the other day when I told you to go home early. Look where that landed you,” he said, looking down at his shoes. “The one time I play the nice guy and see how it turns out? I should stick with being a son of a bitch.”
Fertility: A Novel Page 24