Chapter Nineteen
Danny
DANNY FELT THE heat as the Amstaffs caught fire. The fans flagged the flames, swamping the players and begging for autographs wherever they went.
A boisterous vanload followed Danny home one night, pounding on the front door, refusing to leave, forcing him to call 911. His profession was catching up with his private life. Now that his wife was pregnant, he couldn’t take any chances. As they waited in the family room for the police to arrive, he held Cathy tight. Their home was supposed to be a haven, not a fortress under siege.
“I hate to do this, but we’ve got to install a security system. We could also use a guard or two.”
As she opened her mouth to protest, he placed a finger over her lips.
“I know, Cathy. Things won’t be as private, but we can’t think of only ourselves.”
She gave him a telling look that said it all. She hated sharing their lives with anyone. If he weren’t a professional basketball player, security wouldn’t be necessary.
He wouldn’t give in.
She sighed. “Okay, you can put in the electronics, but I won’t have any guards around the house. I wish you’d get a regular job. Then we wouldn’t have to worry about all this.”
Sirens and disappointed moans from the fans signaled the arrival of the police. He stepped outside to speak to them. When it was over and he came back in, Cathy had already gone upstairs to the bedroom. He sighed. By now, he’d hoped she’d have learned to accept his occupation. Anyway, right now the issue of what he did for a living was a moot point. The fans already knew him. If he quit, it wouldn’t make a difference.
More attempts to invade their privacy occurred in the following weeks. He was a star. His picture was plastered in the papers, on TV, everywhere, yet he didn’t feel any different than before. After each Sunday afternoon home game, he and Cathy opened their home to family and friends. Everyone had a good time devouring pizzas and rehashing what had happened at the game.
Ritchie had married Marilyn, whom he’d met in a night school accounting class, and they’d promptly produced twin boys.
Tony, Tracy and Angela were usually in attendance, as well as Ted and Nancy McGuire. Dora and her best friend, Margaret Lynley and her daughter, Tory, and sometimes Cathy’s friend, Marianne Manning, and her husband, Charles, showed up.
After word got out about the prospective new addition to Cathy and Danny’s family, the wives huddled together like field marshals making battle plans, while Cathy grilled them with countless questions. It was an exciting time.
Almost overshadowing the commotion on the home front was the team’s success, which continued unabated through winter and into the spring. The Amstaffs had come into their own. This year they possessed both the necessary talent and depth, with Dave Connors new at center and Andy Ransome back as guard.
With an easy defeat of the Sonics by eighteen points in the regular season’s final, hopes for an Amstaff national trophy ran high. They were headed for the playoffs.
The team jumped past each hurdle and loped through the first and second rounds. In the third, they faced an at-home nail-biter.
With the home team behind by three points and four seconds to go, Danny threw out a three-pointer and was promptly elbowed by a Peregrine player. Fortunately, the referee noticed.
It was crunch time. Danny stood at the line, eyeing the basket, knowing he must get the ball through the hoop three times. Sweat dripped down his forehead. A hazy film blocked his eyes. He swiped with his wristband. He’d done this before. Why did it seem so hard this time?
He steadied himself and aimed. The first throw swished through, but there were two more to go. Behind the basket, Peregrine fans waved towels and banners, screamed and blew horns, doing their best to distract him. He had to block them out.
Taking a deep breath, he extended his arms. Obediently, the ball wound into the net.
Just one more. That’s all it would take. His heart thumped as if it would burst from his jersey. Trying to calm himself, he took a deep breath and aimed.
In horror he watched the ball hop around the rim, slow itself, then spiral.
As if by some hidden force, it drew itself back into the hoop. At the beautiful sight, he let out a sigh of relief. That was close.
The crowd went insane. His ears hurt, but that didn’t matter. He caught the fervor and jumped up and down, grinning and flashing a victory sign.
“Let’s go,” Coach yelled.
Amidst a rain of congratulations and flying objects, Danny sprinted into the locker room. One more game to win, five days from now, and the championship would be theirs. Could they do it?
As he drove home, the cell phone rang. He smiled. It had to be Cathy congratulating him. She was uncomfortable with the baby due in sixteen days and hadn’t been able to make it to the game. He understood why she couldn’t have been present, yet it was a shame she hadn’t been there with the rest of his cheering section to watch the victory.
“Hi, Cath,” he said, pressing the speaker button as he turned a corner.
“Danny, please hurry. I don’t feel good.”
His hands tightened on the wheel. His neck knotted. He was at least forty-five minutes away from Tahoma Street, where he wanted to be. “Did you call the doctor, Cath?”
“I did. He said to go in.”
“I’ll call an ambulance.”
“No, I want you here with me. I’ll wait.”
“Honey, just go in, please. Anything could happen. Don’t take chances.”
A truck rounded the corner and almost sideswiped him. He swore and blasted the horn, then sped up. Damn, he was too far away.
He’d been on the road when the security system had been installed. Cathy had insisted it was enough. She’d been adamant about not allowing guards on the premises. He should have overridden her. Then she wouldn’t be alone.
“Cathy, can you hear me?”
He heard a moan, then silence. “Cathy, Cathy?”
With trembling fingers, he punched 911, stated the situation, and asked for an ambulance.
The drive home was a nightmare.
“Please, God, let her be all right,” he prayed.
If anything happened to Cathy, he’d never forgive himself.
He hit the speed dial for the McGuires, then remembered they’d left for vacation five days ago. Nancy had wanted to be well rested before the new arrival appeared.
Who else could help? He punched in Dora’s cell phone number, but got voice mail. She was probably out celebrating with the rest of their friends, who knows where. Thank God, he’d decided to come home right away. He only hoped it wasn’t too late.
Danny dashed from the BMW into the house. It was empty. Cathy had to be on her way or already at the hospital. He sped down Devon, then Harlem, to Resurrection Hospital on Talcott, where she would have headed. The two-mile trek seemed like a hundred. When he arrived, the emergency room was jammed. Lines stretched long before the admittance clerks’ windows.
Where was Cathy? Was she all right?
“Please, please, could I ask something?” Danny said, shouldering his way past twelve people in front of him.
“Wait your turn,” a beer-bellied man with a bandaged arm yelled.
“I need to find out about my wife. Can someone help me?” Danny insisted.
A gray-haired clerk took pity on him and beckoned him to the side. “What’s her name, son?”
Fear made his throat go dry. “Cathy...uh Catherine Callaway.”
A voice yelled, “That’s Danny Callaway. I thought I recognized him.”
He didn’t want people prying. He only wanted his wife.
“She’s in there,” the clerk said, pointing at a closed door. He rushed toward it.
“You can’t go in without an access card,” the clerk yelled.
An orderly came up behind Danny and slipped his card through. Danny dashed in beside him, then stood, confused, in the middle of the br
ightly lit floor. Curtain-drawn cubicles lined its perimeters. Which one of them contained Cathy?
A round desk stood to the right behind which a young nurse wrote on a clipboard. He stepped over and cleared his throat. “Is Cathy Callaway here?”
“And you are?...Oh, you’re that basketball player, Danny Callaway. Great game tonight.”
He nodded impatiently.
“She’s this way, sir,” the nurse said, smiling and leading him across the room.
The antiseptic smell was strong, bringing back unpleasant reminders of when he’d had his ankle surgery at Northwestern Memorial Hospital. A baby cried. An old man groaned. While the rest of the world played, here people clutched themselves in pain and fought for their lives. Fear clawed at his stomach.
The nurse stopped abruptly in front of him, making him almost bump into her. She pushed aside the curtain to a cubicle.
Cathy lay still, her skin as pale as the sheet she lay upon. Her red hair and freckles stood out in contrast, reminding him of blood. An IV was stuck in her arm. A nurse and doctor conferred nearby.
Danny rushed to her side. “Cathy, honey, I got here as fast as I could. Are you all right?”
She didn’t move or speak. He waited a fear-filled moment before he saw her force out a weak smile. Seeing her in pain wrenched his gut.
The doctor took him aside. “Mr. Callaway, everything went faster than we’d expected. She lost a lot of blood. The good news is you’ve got a fine, healthy eight-pound boy.”
“What about Cathy?”
“We didn’t have time for an incision, so your wife suffered an extensive rip to the peritoneum. She lost a great deal of blood, but has stopped hemorrhaging. We’re carefully monitoring her blood count as a precaution. The best prescription is a few weeks of bed rest.”
Danny blinked back sudden tears. If only he could have been here with Cathy instead of being stuck in traffic.
A nurse poked her head in. “The room’s ready, doctor.”
“All right, then. Let’s get Mrs. Callaway to the maternity ward where she belongs. The baby’s already up there.”
Danny followed the gurney as Cathy, sleeping the sleep of the exhausted, was transferred to a private room in the maternity wing.
With Cathy situated, the nurse, carrying a small bundle, approached Danny. “Would you like to see your son, Mr. Callaway?”
He swallowed a sudden lump in his throat, then gingerly picked up his child.
Glancing down, he was surprised to find the same black hair as his. The sight tugged at his heartstrings. This child was a part of him. It even looked like him. Since the baby had been inside Cathy for so long, it had seemed only hers.
The following morning, Dora joined them. By then the baby had been named Sean and was contentedly nestled in his mother’s arms. Cathy was already regaining color in her cheeks. The doctor was satisfied enough to promise her release from the hospital the following day…as long as she followed orders.
Danny’s gift of pink tea roses and baby’s breath sat on the window ledge, along with a baby shoe flower arrangement from Dora, plus various other flora from family and friends.
“This place looks like your shop,” Danny teased, smiling at his wife.
A quick frown crossed her face, followed by a valiant smile. He knew she hated leaving her shop even for a day.
“That reminds me,” Dora said. “I better get over there and open up.”
Smiling through sentimental tears, Dora took one last look at the new addition, then hurried away. She’d be busy, working half-days at the shop and half-days at the law firm.
When Cathy’s parents had heard the news, they’d wanted to rush straight home, but Cathy had insisted they finish their vacation.
“I’m not the only woman in the world who’s had a baby. Don’t miss out on your vacation,” she’d told them.
Yes, Cathy was something. She handled everything perfectly. She’d even convinced her parents to stay put. He smiled at her tenderly. She’d waited for this chance a long time. Thank goodness it had happened.
That night he didn’t sleep. The house seemed empty without Cathy. The next morning he was only too happy to drive her and Baby Sean home. Now there would be one more person to fill the rooms.
Cathy wanted to sleep with the baby right next to her, but Danny knew she couldn’t get better that way.
“Remember, Cath, the doctor wants bed rest. You need to get strong again.”
She bit her lip.
They hit on a compromise. When Cathy needed to sleep, Sean would be put into the cradle beside the master bed. With that settled, Danny concentrated on other matters. In all the excitement, he hadn’t given much thought to the playoffs. The team was counting on him, baby or no baby. That meant, no matter how much he didn’t like it, he’d have to leave Friday for practice in L. A. The championship game was on Saturday.
Cathy couldn’t manage on her own. Something had to be done.
With some juggling of schedules, they managed to get Dora’s friend, Margaret, to help at the shop. That left Dora available to stay with her sister.
The only hitch was Saturday, when they both would attend Margaret’s daughter’s graduation ceremony and party afterward.
That made him uneasy.
“Cathy, people get crazy around playoffs. I know we went over this before and you didn’t want guards, but I’d feel better if you humored me this once. I’ll tell Alert Advantage to send over a guard. It’ll only be for the final game.”
“I don’t like it. I want us to be a normal family.”
Sean took that inopportune moment to let out a wail, punctuating her statement and diverting his mother’s attention.
Danny sighed, wishing Cathy would be more accepting of his profession. He knew everything couldn’t be perfect, yet whenever she slammed basketball, she hammered him.
FRIDAY AFTERNOON, DANNY stepped into the bedroom to say goodbye. Cathy was propped atop two huge pillows with Sean cuddled safely in her arms. In her pink cotton gown, with eyes puffy from sleep, she looked almost like a child herself.
He caught his breath at the tableau, then stood still taking in the sight. Smiling, he reached down and planted a kiss on Cathy’s lips and another on Sean’s forehead. He had to be the luckiest man alive. At the door, he turned for one final look. The drapes were open. Late June sunlight streamed onto their faces. They looked so vulnerable, almost lost on top of the giant bed. How could he leave them?
“Hell, this is rotten timing. I wish I didn’t have to go.”
Cathy nodded resignedly and turned to Sean. He shook off a creeping feeling of jealousy. He couldn’t fault her. He’d been the one to suggest a baby as a substitute for him.
On the limousine ride to the airport, he had plenty of time to mull over his new status, wondering if he’d already been relegated to second best.
The air was humid as he boarded the plane. The sky darkened. Guilt and unease combined to form a niggling headache behind his temples.
He’d called this morning to hire an extra security guard, just in case. Cathy and Sean would be in good hands. Professionals would be present every minute to watch over his family. Also, Dora would stop by later in the afternoon. Why couldn’t he relax?
To take his mind off a growing uneasiness, he opened a computer magazine he’d bought at the terminal. The problem was every ad seemed to reflect Cathy’s pale accusing face, pleading with him to give up basketball.
Two Wrongs Page 20