“Catie, honey, I’m fine. I didn’t mean to worry you. Ryan, help me stand up, would you?”
“Nope. Not until the ambulance gets here,” he said in his firm cop voice.
As if on cue, sirens wailed in the distance, growing louder as they drew closer.
“An ambulance? Oh, dear. I don’t need an ambulance. I’m fine now, really,” Mom said reassuringly. “I’m actually a little embarrassed. You didn’t have to call an ambulance for me. It’s nothing.”
“Mom, you passed out. You’ve been sick and weak lately. Don’t tell me you haven’t, because I’ve seen it and so has Benjie. You’re going to go get checked out,” I insisted.
Two paramedics lugging a stretcher appeared in the back yard. Chad Barnes, one of the EMTs and Ryan’s friend, said, “Hey, Ashford, who’s our patient?”
“Right here, Chad. This is my mother-in-law, Maria DiCarlo. She fainted in the back yard.”
“History?”
“Nausea and dizziness. Fatigue. Lactose-intolerant,” Ryan said, glancing at me. I looked away, staring at my mother, whose cheeks were now flushed with what I presumed to be embarrassment. I preferred it to the wan pallor she had displayed so often lately. But embarrassed or not, she was going with Chad.
“I’m fine, really. I don’t need to be seen.”
“Yes, she does,” Ryan said evenly. “Maria, you’re going. Don’t make me force you. Do this for Catie, ok?”
She glanced at Ryan and nodded slightly.
“Ma’am, fainting is not something ‘fine’ people do. Let’s get you checked out.” Chad held out a hand and pulled Mom up. He escorted her to the stretcher and started an IV drip. The other paramedic checked her vitals. They spoke together in clipped, professional medical jargon, and as I listened, I grew even more worried. The numbers they murmured weren’t encouraging.
“Where’s Grammy going?” Benjie asked, bounding over to the stretcher and looking up at Ryan worriedly.
“She’s gonna go to the doctor’s, pal. We just want to make sure she’s ok.”
“But she says she’s ok,” he said defensively, glancing at Mom.
She smiled at Benjie warmly. “That’s what I told them, too, Benjie. But your daddy wants to make sure, is all. It’s ok. You wanna ride with me?”
“Can I go in the ambulance, Daddy?”
Ryan cocked an eyebrow and looked at Chad. “You ok with that?”
“Sure. Hop in, Benjie. Maybe we’ll even let you turn on the siren.”
“Yay!”
The paramedics loaded Mom into the ambulance and helped Benjie clamber up into the back. They drove off, sirens screaming. I was sure Benjie was having a blast.
“You ok?” Ryan asked, gathering me into his arms.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Let’s just go.”
We left the back yard and told a confused Joshua Duggan we were leaving to head to the hospital. He had been so busy with his cell phone he hadn’t even heard the wail of the ambulance. He assured us he’d take care of everything and would call us when he needed us for something.
Ryan and I drove to the hospital as quickly as we could, and even though he tried to draw me into conversation, all I could do was murmur yes or no to his questions. The hospital seemed so far away, and I was frustrated we weren’t already there.
We finally reached the hospital, and I hopped out of the car before it came to a full stop. I called over my shoulder for Ryan to see to any paperwork and headed for Emergency at a run. I skidded into the waiting area and flagged down the first official-looking person I saw.
“Maria DiCarlo?” I asked a man with sandy hair, glasses, a stethoscope and an absentminded demeanor.
He pointed to the double doors at the far end of the room. “Trauma 3.”
The doctor was in with her and Benjie when I arrived. Mom was clothed in a hospital gown and leaning back against the hospital bed, a smile on her face from something Benjie was saying. He was excitedly bouncing up and down on the stretcher and as I watched, he almost fell off. Mom’s arm shot out and caught him neatly before he tumbled off the bed. He smiled at her and said something that made everyone laugh.
I knocked and everyone turned and looked at me. “Ah, you must be Ms. DiCarlo’s daughter. I’m Doctor Flynn. How are you?”
“I’m fine, but is she ok?”
He glanced at Mom and I swear I saw her frown at him and shake her head slightly. Was I imagining it, or was she warning him to be quiet?
“Your mother is doing fine. In fact, she’s asked to leave, and if she feels up to it, I can discharge her. Take care, Ms. DiCarlo. I’ll get the nurse to go over your orders.”
He turned to leave, but I wasn’t satisfied with being told nothing. “Doctor, wait! I’ll walk out with you.”
I strode out at his side and when we were out of earshot of the trauma room, I placed a firm hand on his arm. “Doctor, can I ask what’s wrong with her? Why did she pass out?”
“Mrs. Ashford, due to doctor/patient confidentiality, I’m afraid I can’t discuss anything with you. I’m sorry.”
“But why did she collapse? Is it a bug, or the heat or what?”
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Ashford. All I can say is that you’ll need to discuss this with your mother.”
“But doctor, I’m pregnant. Is she contagious? Do we have to worry about any of us catching something?”
I saw something in his eyes that looked like compassion, and he graced me with a small smile. “I can say it’s not contagious. Now, I have to go see another patient. Have a good day, and congratulations on your pregnancy.”
I murmured my thanks and sent a quick text message to Ryan to get the car ready. I headed back to Mom’s treatment room where she was already standing up, fully-dressed and holding her pocketbook in one hand, Benjie’s hand in the other.
A woman carrying a clipboard bustled in. “I need your signature, ma’am, for your insurance to be billed. Sign here, here and here.”
“Thank you,” Mom murmured as she signed the forms. She looked up and smiled at me brightly. “I’m so sorry, Catie. I guess the heat just got to me.
“What did the doctor say? Did he say it was the heat?” I asked suspiciously.
“Catie, I’m fine. It’s nothing. Oh, here comes the nurse to discharge me.”
The nurse entered the room and went over the discharge instructions, which were annoyingly vague and collected Mom’s signature on the discharge papers along with a promise that she’d contact her primary care physician if she still felt ill.
“But she just moved here. She doesn’t have a doctor yet, do you, Mom? I can probably ask the doctor I work with if he knows of anyone taking new patients.”
“Honey, I’ll take care of it. Now, are you ready?” Mom asked me, the bright smile still plastered on her face. I eyed her suspiciously, but led her and Benjie out of the Emergency department and into the parking garage, where Ryan was waiting for us.
We drove home in silence. Well, most of us were silent. Benjie chattered the whole way about the cool ride in the ambulance and how Chad and Phil (the other paramedic) let him turn on the siren and lights. His enthusiastic little voice filled the void in the car. Mom rested her head against the door and closed her eyes on the ride home. She looked tired just from the effort of getting into the car. Ryan drove with a thoughtful look on his face, and I wondered what was on his mind. I knew what was on mine, however, and it took all my poise and concentration not to blast Mom with it when we got into the apartment.
We settled her on the couch with strict instructions not to move. Ryan got Benjie into his bath and headed to the kitchen to make dinner. I think he also did it to give us some privacy.
“So, let’s hear it,” Mom said with a wry smile when I brought her a pillow and a blanket.
“Why wouldn’t you let the doctor tell me what’s going on?” I accused. The anger I had been carefully suppressing bubbled up to the surface.
“Because there’s nothing to tell.”
“I saw you. You warned him not to tell me. What’s up with that?”
“Catie, I like my privacy. And besides, it’s nothing. I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. Honey, don’t worry, ok? You have enough to worry about. How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine. I’m just a little tired.” And I was. With everything that had happened today, my body felt sluggish, leaden, and my mind was fuzzy. I was suddenly exhausted. I yawned and she smiled.
“I was tired when I was pregnant with you. I slept for fourteen hours a day during my first trimester. I couldn’t get enough. I wonder if the same thing will happen to you.”
“Huh. I don’t know. All I know is I’m beat. It’s been quite an exciting day.”
“I meant what I said about the house, by the way.”
“And you’re also changing the subject. Again. Please just promise me you’ll talk to me from now on? You like your privacy, fine, but remember, you’re not on your own here. You have a family now and we deserve to know if there’s something wrong. Ok?”
“You’re right. I’m sorry; really I am. But please don’t worry. It’s my job to worry about you, not the other way around.”
I was still dubious, but I had to admit it felt nice to have her worry about me. I felt very secure and cozy and honestly, very loved.
“Ok, Mom. But please promise me you’ll tell me if something’s wrong.”
“It’s a deal. Now, are you finished hollering at me?” she asked with a tolerant smile on her face.
“For now, I suppose. But don’t make me have to holler again.” I grinned at her even though I was still worried. But it was obvious she was done talking about it for now.
“So, about the house,” she said briskly. “Do you and Ryan have a bank you use?”
“Yeah, First Community Bank of Pittston.”
“I’ll go to my bank in the morning and get a cashier’s check for you to deposit. Do you think you and Ryan will have any trouble getting a mortgage?”
“I have no idea. We’ve never thought about it, honestly. I think we should be able to. We both make fairly good money.”
“Well, let me know if you run into any snags. I’ll help you in any way I can. I think that house is exactly what you all need. But Catie, you look like you’re ready to pass out. Why don’t you go to bed? I’ll tuck you in and show myself out. I’m feeling much better now, and I’ll sleep better in my own bed.”
I nodded, surprised at how sleepy I’d suddenly gotten. Mom rose and shepherded me into bed, drawing the covers up around my chin and kissing me gently on the cheek. “Good night, little mother.”
I was asleep before I could respond.
Chapter 13
Mom rallied over the next few days and soon she seemed perfectly fine. There was a flush in her cheeks again and she appeared very bright and full of vim and vigor. I was so relieved. I’d been very worried about her despite her reassurances, but I relaxed when I saw how full of pep she was. It appeared she’d been right; I’d worried over nothing. By the day of my doctor’s appointment, she looked as though she’d never felt better.
My pregnancy was confirmed by a smiling nurse practitioner who exclaimed over how fast the stick I had to pee on turned blue. “That’s a quick positive. Let’s examine you, just to check how far along you are. There’s no doubt in my mind you’re expecting.”
She proclaimed me healthy and quite advanced in my pregnancy. I was already ten weeks along! I was surprised I hadn’t known, but after I told her all about what had been going on in my life lately, she said it was no wonder I was distracted. They performed an ultrasound, and I got the first glimpse of our little blob that would eventually turn into a baby. The blob’s heartbeat was strong and steady, music to my ears, and I felt horrible that Ryan had missed it. The doctor’s office gave me a DVD of the ultrasound, though, so I could share it with my men later.
I left the doctor’s office feeling as though I was floating on a cloud, so happy I was bursting. I went over to my mom’s apartment so she could share in my excitement. She took me out to lunch to celebrate and we had a great time. It was wonderful to have a woman in my life. We spent hours talking about how she felt when she was expecting me. And it was funny; I had the same craving for pickles and watermelon (at the same time) that she did. And it turned out she’d felt nauseated when she’d smelled bacon, just the same as I did.
“So, have you and Ryan thought of any names?” Mom asked, smiling at me over her cup of tea.
“Well, since Benjie says we’re not allowed to have a girl, we’ve only been thinking of boy names.” I grinned at her, but inside, my enthusiasm and exuberance quailed a bit at the thought of my stepson, who seemed to have forgotten his talk with his father and who had recently delighted in making things tough again.
Mom must have noted the darkening of my mood because she frowned and said, “Is he giving you a hard time again?”
“Again? He never really stopped, now that I think about it. He likes to say no to me now, and he won’t let me tuck him in anymore. I think he’s still mad I’m having a baby.”
“He’ll come around.”
“I’m getting sick of people saying that, but God, I hope so. I hate it when he’s unhappy. I love him with all my heart, and I don’t want to upset him. He’s already been through so much.”
“Honey, he knows you love him, and he’s just trying to get used to this. He’ll come around. He’s a very sweet boy, and it won’t be long before his natural loving instincts overrule his anger. You’ll see.”
“I hope you’re right,” I said around a mouthful of chicken noodle soup. The warmth of the broth felt good on my still-sensitive stomach and the warmth of my mother’s love for me erased the angst I felt. For the second time today, I silently offered a prayer of thanks for her.
We finished eating and she dropped me off at home. I let myself into the apartment, kicking an empty box out of the way. We’d started putting some things in boxes just to get them out of our way and to get a jumpstart on packing. The bank had called us the day before to get some more information from us, and it looked as though we’d get the loan, or at the very least wouldn’t be immediately refused. The money from Mom was a huge help, even though the bank had questioned where it had come from. It seemed they questioned everything, and it made me more and more nervous every time we talked to them.
The answering machine was blinking and I pressed play. It was the realtor. He’d called to tell us there had been yet another offer on the house we wanted, and he warned us to make our best offer, and soon.
I glumly dialed Ryan to tell him the news and the tightness in his voice when he responded proved how much he’d grown to like the place, too. It was amazing that we’d fallen so in love with the house, especially since we had been so nervous about committing to such a large purchase. Now it was a hard pill to swallow that we might lose the house we really, really wanted to raise our kids in. It was the house Benjie wanted and I couldn’t bear to tell him we didn’t get it. It would have been just one more thing in his young life to be upset about.
I paced the living room, kicking the same empty box out of my way half a dozen times before I finally sent it sailing across the room. I flopped down onto the couch and closed my eyes, trying to will our desired outcome into fruition. Isamu always told me to visualize what I wanted actually happening. He believed in the power of positive thinking. I always had a problem doing it, and I think it was because good things seldom happened to me, but lately, since so much good had been happening, it was easy to see us all gathered around the table in our new dining room, eating our first Christmas dinner in our brand-new house. Mom was passing around dishes of steaming food, Ryan was carving the ham and smiling as he placed it on our plates, and Benjie was laughing and rubbing my pregnant belly with a chubby little hand. I smiled, placing my hand on my still-flat stomach, willing it to grow. I couldn’t wait to start showing, to let the world know I had my husband’s child
inside me, that we’d be a happy family for the rest of our lives.
And then I did something stupid. I visualized Gran there with us, a small smile on her properly pleasant face. I visualized her looking at me with love in her eyes, and hope for the new baby in her heart.
The sob that burst from my mouth seemed to come from my toes, it was so deeply rooted. I could deny how important she was to me all I wanted, but it didn’t change the fact that I loved her. And I missed her.
Why did I keep doing this to myself? Why did I insist on caring about her when she obviously felt nothing for me? Was I glutton for punishment?
No, it wasn’t that at all. It was what Isamu always told me. Love, when shared, grows. With all I’d been through, with all the times I’d been kicked when I was down, I still had love to share. Ryan’s love, my mom’s love, Benjie’s love saved me and demanded to be spread. I loved my Gran, regardless of what she did to me, and I wanted to show her. And maybe, just maybe, if I continued to share my love with her, in spite of her continual rejection, she’d learn to love me back.
I stood and picked up the phone before my common sense could stop me.
She picked up on the third ring and I found myself welling up with tears at the sound of her voice. God, how I’d missed her.
“Hi, Gran,” I said shakily.
“Caitlin, what’s wrong? She stole your money and left, didn’t she? Didn’t I tell you that would happen? I wish you’d listen to me.”
I was already exasperated with her and I had to struggle for control. “No, it’s not that. God, Gran, why do you always think the worst?”
“The worst already happened. The rest is just icing on the cake,” she said in a rare bout of self-pity. “So, did she take your money and run?”
“No, she’s great. Gran, I’m pregnant. And I’m happy. I just wanted to let you know.”
“You’re pregnant already? You really should have waited to see if the marriage would work. You’ll end up raising that baby alone. And what are you going to do for money?”
“What do you mean? Gran, you do know I work, right? And so does Ryan. And guess what? We’re buying a house.”
Holding On (Hooking Up) Page 9