Halfway to Forever (16 page)

An hour later she was home, fixing pasta on the stove, when an unspeakable pain shot through her head, dimming her senses and shading her eyes in a cloak of sudden black. She sank to the floor and fought for the strength to shout for help.

“Tanner!” Her voice was weak and fading. “H-elp …”

He should be home any minute, but that wouldn’t help her now. Her heartbeats came in short bursts without any sense of pattern, and the pain intensified as she collapsed. The cold tile floor smacked against her arms and face, and she lay there, unable to move.

Terror gripped her heart, her mind. If Tanner didn’t get there soon, these might be her last moments alive. Their daughter’s last moments.
God, I’m not ready to die! I haven’t said good-bye to Tanner or Ty or …

The pain doubled its intensity and Jade moaned. “Tanner!”

The thought that she might not live through the seizure was sadder than anything Jade could imagine. Not because she had fears about where she’d spend eternity, but because she’d miss out on telling Tanner what was supposed to be the happiest news they’d had in a month.

That the precious child inside her was a little girl.

Even if Tanner arrived in time, the seizure meant everything had changed. She tried to call out again, but it was no use. Her breathing was infrequent and shallow and there was nothing she could do to help herself. Her body was rebelling against an invasion deep in her brain. An invasion that could only mean one thing.

The tumor was growing.

Tanner heard Jade’s soft cries the moment he opened the door.

“Jade?”
He sprinted for the kitchen. Steam filtered up from the stove where a pot of boiling water spilled onto a flame-red burner. “Jade, where are—”

Something on the floor caught his attention and he stared at her. “Dear God, no … not again.”

He raced to her, turning off the stove and reaching for the phone as he fell to his knees beside her. Fear made breathing next to impossible. “Jade, baby, wake up!”

Her eyes were wide open, unblinking, and her arms and fingers were frozen stiff. She was still shaking, her limbs jumping off the floor, and he could do nothing to help her stop. It took less than fifteen seconds to call the ambulance; then he remembered Dr. Layton’s advice from last time she had a seizure.

Lay her flat … check her pulse, her inhalations. Don’t administer CPR unless she’s stopped breathing on her own …

Tanner forced himself to concentrate and follow the doctor’s orders. Her heart was still beating, but it was weak and irregular. He lowered his face to hers. “Come on, Jade; fight, baby. Don’t leave me.” His eyes fell on her upper chest. She was breathing, but only the faintest bit of air passed over her lips. Tanner gripped her shoulders and clung to her. “Stay with me, Jade. Don’t leave …”

The seconds slowed to a crawl, and Tanner begged God to help them. His eyes remained locked on Jade, looking for the moment when he might need to start CPR. “Keep breathing, Jade … please keep breathing.”

Tanner wasn’t sure how much time passed, but he felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see the paramedics. He scrambled out of the way, his body weak from terror. What if it was too late? What if they couldn’t help her? Why was any of it happening to them?

As usual, there were no answers.

The paramedics moved fast and spoke quietly. Before Tanner could glean anything from their conversation, they whisked Jade into an ambulance and off to the hospital.

Again Tanner followed behind, his mind numbed by the nightmare unfolding before them.
What’s happening, God? Why this? Why her?

A Scripture from a sermon they’d heard the week before flashed in Tanner’s mind.
“In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”

Tanner steadied his hands and kept his attention on the ambulance in front of him.
Is this the trouble you have for us, Lord? That Jade suffer like this?

It was more than Tanner could bear. He forced himself to believe it was all a mistake, that the seizure was merely an adverse reaction to Jade’s medication or maybe somehow related to her pregnancy and not the cancer at all. He was at her side the moment he saw her inside the emergency room. Though she was conscious, she was too exhausted to speak.

“Hang in there, honey. I’m here.”

Dr. Layton met them at the hospital and pumped a megadose of anti-seizure medication into Jade’s veins. More tests were performed, and Tanner could do nothing but stay by her side, hold her hand, and pray it was all a bad dream. That somehow they’d wake up and Jade would be the same cheerful person she had been that morning. Back when brain cancer seemed little more than a diversion in what was otherwise a perfectly normal pregnancy.

Two hours later, the prognosis was painfully clear. The tumor had grown, and Dr. Layton ordered an immediate increase in Jade’s anti-seizure medication.

“At this point, Jade’s in a race against her biological clock.” The doctor stood close to Tanner, his hand resting on Jade’s bed. “And there’s something else. The tumor isn’t growing neatly like we’d hoped. It’s starting to grow tentacles. The more that happens, the less likely we’ll be able to operate when the baby’s born. I thought you should know.”

The information settled like a dense cloud of poisonous smoke over Tanner’s consciousness as he struggled to make sense
of the doctor’s words. The tumor had tentacles? Seizure medication—though replete with side effects—could prevent further attacks. But if the tumor continued to grow, it could cause a stroke or sudden death. The baby was still eleven weeks away from the set delivery date.

“If things get bad enough, we’ll have to take the baby and hope for the best.” Dr. Layton bit his lip. Jade’s eyes were closed, and Tanner doubted that she either heard or understood any of the information the doctor had just shared.

Tanner nodded. “What’s the soonest the baby could live?”

“We’ve saved them as early as twenty-five, twenty-six weeks. Jade’s just about twenty-one weeks along now.” The man hesitated. “Jade’s wishes are clear about keeping the baby. We’ll only deliver that early if we have no other choice.”

There was no way Tanner could think that far in the future. He smoothed the hair off Jade’s forehead and thanked the doctor. “I think we need to be alone, if that’s all right with you.”

Dr. Layton’s shoulders slumped and he nodded. “I’m sorry.” He raised the file he had in his hand. “The nurses will explain the increase in medication. I’m afraid …” Tanner understood the pause. The doctor knew all too well that there was only so much bad news a person could handle. Finally he went on. “I’m afraid the extra medication is bound to cause the more serious side effects we discussed earlier.”

Tanner clenched his teeth and waited for the doctor to leave. He wanted to scream at him that none of the news they’d received that day was right or fair or even remotely possible. Jade’s tumor was growing tentacles? Sudden death was a possibility? None of it seemed real, and suddenly Tanner couldn’t sit by his sick wife another moment.

He stood in a burst of motion and strode to the window, staring outside as a rush of tears blurred his vision. Memories from
days gone by danced on the screen of his mind. He and Jade finding each other again that summer in Kelso, walking along the Cowlitz River and holding hands in the park while they caught up on the first decade lost.

Jade … I need you. Don’t leave me again.

He squeezed his eyes shut and another image appeared.

It was Jade two years ago, the afternoon they found each other again. She was crying and telling him that yes, Ty was his son. Her words echoed in his heart.
“I love you, Tanner … I never stopped loving you …”

He could hear her voice, feel the touch of her fingers against his face as they realized the devastation caused by his mother’s web of lies.

Dozens of memories flashed before Tanner’s eyes, a tapestry of happy moments they’d shared in the two years since they’d been back together. He gripped the windowsill as despair worked its way through his veins. He didn’t have one single happy memory without Jade. He stared out the window at the sunset over Thousand Oaks, silent tears sliding down the sides of his face.

God, what am I going to do if she dies? Please … don’t take her. Please, God.

“Tanner?”

Her weak voice made him spin around. He wiped his hands across his cheeks, determined she wouldn’t see him cry. “I’m here, baby.” He was at her side again in three quick steps. “How’re you feeling?”

The corners of her mouth struggled into a smile. “Did … did the doctor tell you the news?”

Tanner’s heart pounded within him.
How do I tell her the truth, God … give me the words.
“Yes. He told me.”

Jade’s eyes sparkled despite her exhaustion. “You don’t look excited.”

What? Was the medication messing with her already? He tried to keep his voice even. “Excited?”

“Tanner, it’s the best news we’ve had in a month.” She held out her hand and he took it, weaving his fingers between hers.

“Jade … I don’t understand …” He bit his lip and shook his head. “What news?”

Her half-closed eyelids opened wider than before. “Then you don’t know.” A slow chuckle came from her throat. “Fine. Let me be the first to tell you.” She brought their hands to her lips and kissed his fingers. “Congratulations, Mr. Eastman. You’re going to have a daughter.”

T
he girls were at the grocery store and Hannah was folding laundry in Grace’s room when the phone rang. She straightened a rag doll on Grace’s pink ruffled pillow and answered the phone in the office down the hall. “Hello?”

There was a pause on the other end and Hannah rolled her eyes. Salesmen. They never came right out and gave you their pitch anymore. Instead there was an annoying three-second computerized delay. Hannah was about to hang up when she heard Edna Parsons’ voice.

“I need to speak to you. Can I come by, or would you rather talk now, on the phone?”

Inch by inch, Hannah sank into the chair near the phone. Her heart was in her throat. “Now’s fine.”

The social worker sighed. “I hate to tell you this …”

Hannah’s pulse quickened, and she struggled to breathe. What was this? It couldn’t be about Grace. Her mother was in jail, after all. They were just a few months from finalizing the adoption. “Just tell me. Please.”

Again Mrs. Parsons hesitated. “I’ve been in conversation this week with Grace’s maternal grandmother.”

Hannah’s stomach dropped. This wasn’t happening; it was impossible. Grace didn’t have a grandm—

“It seems … well, she isn’t dead after all.”

Hannah was falling into a dark and endless pit. She knew what was coming and there was nothing she could do to stop it.
Her grip on the phone tightened. “How … how do you know she’s telling the truth?”

“The woman provided us with documentation proving she’s Leslie Landers’s mother. Apparently she gave Leslie a great deal of money and tried to help her purchase a house in Oklahoma.”

Oklahoma? The woman lived in Oklahoma? Did that mean …
Hannah squeezed her eyes shut and tried to focus on the social worker’s explanation.

“Instead Leslie took the money and ran to California. She blew it on drugs and told everyone, including Grace, that Grandma Landers was dead.”

Hannah swallowed. “What does the woman want?”

Another sigh filled the phone, this one heavier than before. “She wants Grace. She says she’s been like a mother to the child since she was born. The only stability Grace has ever known.”

Until now
, Hannah wanted to say.
Until she came to live with us!
The technicality of their situation didn’t matter; Grace was
their
daughter. Even if the adoption wasn’t finalized. “Don’t … don’t we have some say in this? Grace belongs to us now.”

“Grace belongs to the state. She’s a foster child, a ward of the court.” Mrs. Parsons paused. “I had no idea this would happen. I feel terrible, Mrs. Bronzan.”

Hannah’s mind raced for a solution. There had to be a way out. Maybe she and Matt and Jenny and Grace could pile in the car and head for Mexico. Maybe she could hang up and the entire phone call would be nothing but an unthinkable nightmare. Hannah rubbed her forehead and stared at the floor. Her heartbeat was so loud she was sure the social worker could hear it. “Does … does the woman know how happy Grace is? Does she understand?”

“She wants her granddaughter, and according to California

law she has the right to take custody of her as long as she’s fit. We checked her out and she’s a fine woman, Mrs. Bronzan. She’s flying here today from Oklahoma to take Grace home.”

To take Grace home?
There was a searing pain in Hannah’s heart. So that was it? Grace’s grandmother figured out where she was and now Grace would have to leave? As though she and Matt and Jenny had never been a part of her life at all? Tears spilled from Hannah’s eyes and she struggled to find her voice. “You’re taking her today?”

“No.” There was a shuffling sound of papers in the background. “We’ll come for her tomorrow morning. Say ten o’clock. Her grandmother wants to come, too. She … she wants to thank you for helping Grace these past three months.”

“Yes … I see.” Hannah mumbled a good-bye and hung up the phone. As she did, her eyes fell on a framed photograph of Grace and Jenny, their arms slung across each other’s shoulders; grins spread across their faces. Her face contorted as the sobs came. “No!” She shouted the word so it sounded throughout the empty house. “No, God! Don’t take her away!”

Hannah reached for the picture and clutched it to her chest, weeping over the thought of telling Grace good-bye in the morning. There would be no time to prepare, no time to let her know how much they loved her. Not only that, but after tomorrow she’d be living in Oklahoma.

How would they survive? Any of them? The child had worked her way into the very fiber of their family, into the deepest crevices of their hearts. It would be like losing.