“Higher!” she called out to Zoe who gave her another push, but not too hard. “More!” Jaime demanded, with a glance over her shoulder, just as Zoe gave her a bigger push, and as she looked back at Zoe, Jaime flew off the swing, and landed in a heap on the rubber mat. Zoe dashed toward her and picked her up, narrowly missing getting hit in the head by the swing as she pulled Jaime away from it. Jaime was crying, and holding one arm limply as Zoe pulled her into her arms. “My hand hurts, Mommy,” she said between sobs, and Zoe could see it was at an odd angle, and was already starting to swell.
She carried Jaime clear of the swings, and sat her down on a bench to have a better look. It didn’t look good to her. She carried Jaime out of the playground as the other mothers watched and waved goodbye to them. She hailed a cab as soon as they reached the street, got in with Jaime still crying, and asked to be taken to NYU hospital, the now all too familiar emergency entrance. They got there ten minutes later, and after paying the cab fare, she rushed straight to the nursing desk.
“What are you doing here again?” a familiar-looking nurse asked them.
“I fell off the big girl swing,” Jaime said between sobs and gulps of air. Zoe was relieved that it wasn’t the arm she had previously broken, and this time it seemed to be her hand that had gotten hurt. A nurse they didn’t know walked Zoe into an exam room, where she gently set Jaime down on the table, and carefully took Jaime’s down jacket off, which made her cry harder.
They waited fifteen minutes for the doctor, while several nurses they knew came to say hi to Jaime. Zoe hadn’t called Austin yet, and decided to wait until she knew what the doctor would say about Jaime’s hand. The doctor took one look at it when he walked into the room, and said he was fairly sure her wrist was broken, and ordered an X-ray to confirm it. A nurse’s aide put Jaime in a child-size wheelchair and rolled her down the hall to the X-ray lab. Zoe and Jaime knew where everything was now.
The X-ray showed that her wrist was broken. It was a clean break like the last one, and the doctor met them back in the exam room. He was looking at a computer screen and glanced up at Zoe, taking in her sleek looks and well-kept appearance even in jeans, a sweater, and a black down jacket.
“Your daughter’s had quite a list of injuries in the past year. Broken arm, dislocated elbow twice, now her wrist. And I see she was admitted for a severe case of the flu. She must be a pretty rambunctious kid. Have you had her checked for ADHD? That’s quite a list for a two-year-old.” Zoe stared at him with relief. For a minute, she thought they were going to accuse her of child abuse, instead he thought Jaime might be hyperactive, which Zoe knew she wasn’t. Cathy Clark would have picked it up if she were but had never suggested it.
“I’ll mention it to our pediatrician,” she said soberly, and he asked Jaime what color cast she wanted. They had just added fluorescent pink to the options.
“Pink,” she said, still holding her hand, but she had stopped crying. He put it on without calling the orthopedist on duty, he said it was a simple break, and the cast could come off in four weeks. They knew the drill now. They left the ER an hour later, with the nurses waving at them, and Zoe called Austin from the street and told him what had happened.
“She what?” he said in a tone of disbelief.
“She fell off the swing and broke her wrist.” The first thought that ran through Austin’s mind was how he was going to explain it to his mother.
“How could she break her wrist? They have sand under the swings, and they can’t fall out of the basket once they’re in it. Did she climb out when the swing was moving?”
“She wasn’t in the baby swings,” Zoe explained with a sigh, her stomach was churning having to admit it to him but she knew Jaime would tell him. “They were all full, and there was a line of kids waiting for them. She was on the big girl swings and she slipped off. They have rubber mats under them, but she must have fallen wrong on her wrist.”
“Is it the same arm she broke before?” He sounded discouraged.
“No, the other one. She has to wear the cast for four weeks.”
“Did they question you about it? By now, they must think we’re child abusers. We’ll have to start going to another hospital if she gets hurt again.” He was only half joking.
“No, I thought of that too. But the doctor asked me if she had ADHD. Maybe she does.”
“She’s not hyperactive, Zoe. We’re not supervising her properly, or this wouldn’t be happening. She should never have been on the big kid swings.” The reproach in his voice was clear.
“I know,” Zoe said in a small voice. “I didn’t think this would happen.”
“We never do, and then it does. Where are you now?”
“Outside the hospital. We just finished. We’ve been here for an hour.”
“I’ll pick you up in ten or fifteen minutes and take you to lunch. I’m almost finished what I came in to do. I’ll take care of the rest on Monday.”
He looked serious when he drove up to the emergency entrance, and Zoe and Jaime got into the backseat. He didn’t have her car seat in his car, since Jaime usually rode in Zoe’s car, so Zoe put the seatbelt on her. Jaime showed him her bright pink cast, and he exchanged a look with Zoe. He wasn’t angry at her, she could see, he was worried.
“Did you call Cathy?” Zoe shook her head. She was as upset as he was, and furious with herself for giving Jaime a harder push, so she fell off when she turned to see her mother.
“I didn’t want to bother her on a Saturday. I didn’t think it was broken.”
“They’ll probably report us to Child Protective Services next time, if there is one,” he said seriously.
“Cathy would vouch for us.”
“They might not give her a chance to, particularly if they find out we’re friends.” Zoe nodded, as he drove toward a deli they liked in SoHo. There were mobs of tourists and people from the suburbs milling around. He found a parking space two blocks away, and carried Jaime to the deli. They sat down at a free table in the middle of the restaurant, and Austin looked unhappily at Zoe. “I can’t believe she broke something again. Maybe her bones are unusually brittle.”
“I don’t think so. It’s just bad luck.”
“Bad luck doesn’t happen this often,” he said as a waiter handed them the menus and dashed off to pick up someone’s order. It was a busy place, but they liked the food there. They had great chicken soup, and Jaime loved the hot dogs. They were looking at the menus, when Austin glanced up and realized that Jaime had left the table. She was wandering down the aisles, smiling at people and showing them her pink cast, as waiters whizzed by her, carrying pots of hot coffee. Zoe smiled when she realized what she was doing, and Austin flew out of his seat, crossed the restaurant, grabbed her, picked her up, and brought her back. He set her down on her chair and spoke to her sternly.
“You don’t get out of your seat again until we leave, do you hear me, Jaime?” Her lip started to tremble and tears filled her eyes, as Zoe looked at him in outrage.
“Why did you do that? You embarrassed her, it’s humiliating to be carried away like that.”
“Why did I do that? Are you kidding me? There were four waiters about to trip over her and pour hot coffee on her. Do you want to check out the burn unit at NYU next? We’ve worn out the charm of the ER, and met everyone who works there.” His tone was harsh, but he had seen another disaster about to happen, and they had just barely finished the last one. “Don’t you see that, when an accident is about to happen? You can’t let her run around a busy restaurant.”
“What do you want me to do? Tie her to her chair? She has a right to get up just like you and I do.”
“She most definitely does not. I’m not three feet tall and going to trip a waiter. They wouldn’t even see her until they fell over her and poured coffee on her.” They filled coffee cups at the table, and the coffee they poured was bo
iling hot. He’d had it before. “You have to pay closer attention, and see the accidents before they happen, not after.” He made her feel about two inches tall, and this time Zoe’s eyes filled with tears as Jaime watched her. “This isn’t about respecting a two-year-old, Zoe, it’s about being a responsible parent.”
“You think I’m irresponsible?” She looked crushed.
“We both are, if this keeps happening again and again. It’s not her fault, it’s ours. We have to teach her that some things are dangerous, like riding a swing for big kids, or running through a restaurant. We can’t let her do whatever she wants.”
“She just wanted to show those people her cast.”
With that, Jaime piped up and agreed with her mother. “I told them I bwoke my wist, they liked the pink cast. I do too,” she said, and her wrist didn’t hurt once the doctor set it.
“She should be picking out sneakers or teddy bears or hair ribbons, not casts,” Austin said miserably, as the waiter came to take their order. Zoe ordered chicken soup, Jaime said she wanted a hot dog and a donut, and Austin asked for a pastrami sandwich. They had the best in the city. When Jaime’s hot dog came, Austin cut it in little pieces, which Jaime objected to strenuously.
“Why did you do that?” Zoe asked him, shocked. He hadn’t listened to what Jaime wanted, and cut it up anyway.
“Because if she chokes on a bite of hot dog, and I have to do the Heimlich on her, I’m going to have a heart attack. We’ve had enough excitement for one day.” Zoe nodded, and told Jaime it would be yummy anyway, and it came with French fries, which she loved. Zoe doused them in ketchup, just the way Jaime liked them, and she ate the little pieces of hot dog and dipped them in the ketchup too.
Austin looked relaxed by the end of lunch, and ordered a piece of cheesecake for dessert, while Jaime ate her donut with sprinkles on it. Zoe had hardly touched her soup. She was too upset by Austin’s attitude. He was blaming her for all of Jaime’s injuries, or that was what it felt like to her. She had texted Cathy by then, who called them at the end of lunch.
“What happened?” she asked, stunned by yet another broken bone after an accident, when Zoe explained it in detail.
“It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have put her on the big swing. I didn’t think she’d fall off, but when she turned around to look at me, she lost her balance, and the swing was at the high point.”
“It can happen.” Cathy sounded discouraged too.
“The doctor asked me if she has ADHD. Do you think she does?”
“Of course not. She’s just a busy two-year-old.”
“With an irresponsible mother.” Austin felt guilty when he saw the look on Zoe’s face. She had taken every word he’d said to heart.
“I’ll come by to see her later,” Cathy promised. “I can’t right now. I’m at a flea market in Brooklyn.”
“We’re out to lunch. Jaime just had a hot dog and fries and a donut. Her appetite doesn’t seem to have suffered.” Austin almost said that she was used to breaking bones by now, but managed to restrain himself. “She’ll come by to see her later,” Zoe said after the call.
“She doesn’t have to. She seems fine. I think you and I are more upset than she is.” It was an accurate statement of how the adults were feeling. Jaime looked relaxed and happy by the end of the lunch.
They drove back to the apartment, and Austin put the car in the garage where he kept it, and walked into the apartment twenty minutes later. Zoe had put Jaime on her bed for a nap, and was going to lie down herself. It had been an upsetting morning, and Jaime had recovered faster than she had. Zoe still felt slightly sick. “What took you so long?”
“I got a call from my mother. I told her what happened, and had to explain it to her. She thought I was joking at first, she couldn’t believe Jaime broke her wrist. Neither could I when you called me.”
“I felt the same way when I saw her do it,” Zoe said, looking exhausted. The hospital, and Austin’s anger over the whole thing, had worn her out.
Austin went to watch TV in the living room then. He didn’t even want to think, just focus on something else. He didn’t tell Zoe that his mother had burst into tears when he told her, and she finally realized he wasn’t joking.
“Something is really wrong here,” she said to her son when she regained her composure. “I don’t know what it is, but I can feel it. No child has this many accidents.” She had already said it to him several times, and it didn’t feel good to hear it again, and he didn’t entirely disagree with her. He just didn’t know how to stop it. Every time he turned around, Jaime was in the ER again and had just been there. Now that they had made it through apnea safely after a year, it seemed like she was breaking something every five minutes.
He wanted to be angry at Zoe about it, but he couldn’t be. She looked so devastated and remorseful that he felt like a monster continuing to make an issue of it. He peeked into Jaime’s room and saw her sound asleep in her bed, looking like an angel. It had been a big morning for her too, and traumatic. Then he went to lie down on their bed, next to Zoe.
“You hate me, don’t you,” Zoe said in a hoarse whisper with the TV on in the background. She wasn’t really watching, she just wanted the noise and the voices.
“Of course I don’t hate you. I love you. I just wonder what we’re doing wrong. Other kids don’t get hurt this much, and their parents don’t know every nurse in the ER.” Zoe was always so nice to them that they remembered her, and Jaime. Austin reached over and took her hand in his, and saw that she was crying. It turned into sobs almost immediately, and he pulled her into his arms and held her.
“I’m so sorry, it was an accident. I promise it won’t happen again.” But suddenly he was afraid it would. He was frightened that something was happening he didn’t understand.
“I believe you. And I’m sorry too. You’re the best mother in the world,” but for the first time it had a hollow ring to it. If she was, why did Jaime keep getting hurt? He told Zoe again and again what a good mother she was, and as he held her, there were tears rolling down his cheeks too, and the woman in his arms was starting to feel like a stranger to him. Maybe his mother was right.
Chapter 9
When Jaime was two and a half, having her normal checkup, Zoe asked to talk to Cathy Clark in her office and asked her a question which stunned her.
“I know this probably sounds crazy to you,” she said to her friend almost shyly, “but would you do some bloodwork on her to check for leukemia?” Cathy frowned and looked worried. It was an odd request.
“Do you suspect something? Have you seen any signs that would indicate that?” She knew that Zoe had attended two years of medical school, was still interested in the profession, still occasionally read medical journals, and had a surprising amount of scientific knowledge. But in answer to Cathy’s question, Zoe shook her head.
“No, I haven’t,” she said. “It’s just that…afterward, my mother said that there had been some symptoms six months before they discovered my sister had leukemia. It probably wouldn’t have made a difference, but who knows if with six more months jump on it, she might have survived it. She had the most aggressive form of the disease, so maybe it wouldn’t have changed anything. Rose was three when they diagnosed her. I just don’t want to miss something, and have a bad surprise later. It would reassure me if her tests come back clear.”
“It’s a very unusual request,” Cathy said quietly. She felt sorry for her. Zoe was obviously still haunted by the loss of her sister, and terrified it could happen to Jaime, the same shocking news, the agonizing years, the tragic ending. “I don’t normally like to put kids through unnecessary bloodwork. And I see absolutely not the slightest hint that there is anything wrong with Jaime. If I did, I’d tell you, Zoe. I’d want to get all the tests and consultations we could on her. But I understand why you’re worried.”
“I watch
ed my sister fade away and die for four years. If we’re going to face that, I’d rather know it so I can steel myself. My mother was amazing with her when my sister was sick. She gave her own bone marrow for a transplant. It got her three more years, but my mom thought it would save her. She would have done anything for her, and she never left her for a minute for the whole four years.”
“That must have been tough on you,” Cathy said sympathetically. Zoe didn’t usually talk about it, although she had mentioned it once or twice after they became friends.
“It was. It changed my relationship with my mother forever. Before that, she was wonderful and totally attentive to both of us, and I was the favored big sister with all the privileges. Once Rose got sick, my mother had to be at the hospital with her, at labs or doctors’ appointments, or getting chemo. I hardly ever saw her for four years. And afterward, it took her five years to get over it. She was in a daze for all that time. And when she woke up and could function again, she went back to work, which she hadn’t done since I was born. So basically, I lost her from the moment Rose got sick. We couldn’t ever put it back together again, and I think we remind each other too much of the bad times. Just seeing her or hearing her voice brings it all back, and I probably do the same for her. We talk on the phone occasionally, but I don’t visit her, and she doesn’t come to New York. It’s better this way. After thirty years of loss and pain, it’s too late to fix it. But I have to say, she taught me how to be a mother. I have never seen anyone give and do so much, or try so hard, as she did with my sister. I hope nothing like it ever happens to us, but if it does, I hope I can be like her. Everyone talked about what a great mother she was.” There were tears in her eyes as she said it and Cathy’s heart went out to her.
“You’re a wonderful mother, Zoe,” Cathy said sincerely, “the best one I’ve ever seen in my practice. You’re always right there for Jaime. And let’s face it, she is a handful. She is curious and active, into everything. I know she’s had some mishaps, but I think she would have had many more if it weren’t for you. I know you do everything you can to keep her safe,” including asking for testing for leukemia, although there was no sign of a problem. But Cathy could understand why now. “Normally, I’d discourage you from the testing you want for Jaime. As a physician, I can’t justify it. But as your friend, I want to help you put your fears to rest. I’ll give the lab an order for the tests, and then promise me you’ll try not to think about it again. She’s not your little sister. She’s a healthy little girl with her whole life ahead of her. Try to believe that.” Zoe smiled at her through tears, and was immeasurably grateful.
The Dark Side Page 10