Count on Me (Bayview Heights Trilogy) (11 page)

“Just symptoms. I won’t know for sure until I see blood tests, but his lower right quadrant is extremely tender.” Kurt glanced up. “Mitch, go get the Bronco. You and Seth can ride in front.” He began to wrap Josh in the light quilt. “Lacey, you ride in back with me and Josh.”

“Shouldn’t we call an ambulance?” Seth asked.

“This’ll be quicker.” He pulled his keys out of his pocket. “Somebody get my bag out of my car.”

“I will,” Zoe said. “And I’ll drive Cassie into town, too.”

“And me,” Philip said.

Kurt was all business now. “Philip, have Celia call the hospital emergency room and alert them we’re coming.” He bent to scoop the little boy into his arms and headed downstairs.

Within minutes the caravan was on its way to the Bayview Heights hospital. Josh lay curled up in the back seat of the car with his head on his mother’s lap, in real pain now. Kurt checked his blood pressure. It was low. And his fever was 104.

Lacey said, “I took his temperature at noon. It was ninety-nine. And he wasn’t in this kind of pain.”

“It happens fast in cases like this, Lace.”

Seth turned around. “Honey, it’s not your fault.”

“Of course it’s not,” Kurt said, soothing Josh’s forehead. “You can’t run to the hospital for every tummyache.”

Lacey bit her lip and nodded.

In ten minutes—thanks to Mitch’s police light—they reached the emergency room. Kurt carried Josh in; the boy moaned pitifully at the jostling. As gently as he could, Kurt laid Josh on the gurney and followed it down the hall.

The pediatric surgeon on duty introduced himself as Tom Ryan. “What’s going on with the boy here?”

Kurt filled him in on the details as they wheeled Josh to an examining room.

“You can come in with us if you like,” Dr. Ryan said.

“Go, please, Kurt,” Lacey said.

He turned. “Of course.” Squeezing her arm, he told her, “I’ll be back with news as soon as I can.”

o0o

FROM HER PLACE by the window, Zoe watched Seth stroke Lacey’s hair as he kept her close to him on the orange vinyl chairs.

“I’m so scared,” Lacey whispered.

Seth mumbled something Zoe couldn’t hear.

Zoe was scared, too. The only thing that kept her together was Kurt’s calm demeanor and assurances. She prayed he’d come out soon. It had been twenty-five minutes.

Cassie waited by the emergency-room door. Mitch paced in front of her. Philip, looking a little gray, sat stiffly in a straight chair at a small table. Zoe crossed to him. “Can I get you something, Philip?”

“No. Sit with me, though.”

She sank into a chair next to him and took his hand. “It wasn’t your fault, Grandpa.”

“My head knows that. I just wonder if I was wrong to shoo Lacey out this morning. She might have realized Josh was so sick.”

“Hindsight’s twenty-twenty.”

He smiled weakly. “Same thing Kurt said.”

“He’ll be—”

The door swung open and Kurt strode out. He headed for the Taylors and knelt down in front of them. Tenderly he took Lacey’s hands in his. “He has acute appendicitis, Lacey. Fortunately the appendix hasn’t ruptured, but it’s inflamed. He’s being prepped for surgery right now.”

Tears formed in Lacey’s eyes. “Surgery?”

“We have no choice, honey. It has to be done. But the procedure’s relatively simple. He’ll be given a general anesthetic, hydrated with intravenous fluids and dosed with preoperative antibodies. We have to move quickly because we need to get the appendix out right away. They’re coming out now with papers to sign.”

“Oh, my God, if you hadn’t gone over...if we hadn’t gotten him here, it might have ruptured.” Lacey’s tone was a little wild.

“Well, it didn’t,” Kurt said, adopting his calm doctor voice. “And it won’t. We’re on top of this.”

“Will you be in there with him?” she asked.

“I’m going to scrub and watch, but I won’t assist.”

Lacey gripped his arm. “But you’ll be there.”

He smiled. “Yes.”

“What does the procedure entail?” Seth wanted to know. He, too, had gone pale.

“There’ll be a small incision in his lower belly, then they’ll tie the appendix off and cut it out. There shouldn’t be any complications.”

“What about infection?”

“In any operation, infection can set in.” Kurt stood. “But there’s no reason to expect anything to go wrong. The surgery shouldn’t take more than a half hour.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Here’s Dr. Ryan to talk to you about it.” Kurt stepped back as the pediatric surgeon approached them. “Mr. and Mrs. Taylor? I’m Tom Ryan…”

Zoe watched Kurt head to the doors of the emergency room. Without thinking, she darted over before he disappeared through them. “Kurt?”

He turned.

She squeezed his arm. “Thanks.”

Spontaneously he covered her hand with his. “Stay close to them,” he said indicating the Taylors.

“Things
are
okay, aren’t they?”

“Of course, I’d never lie about something like this. Even to the people I love.”

She understood his integrity, had always admired it. Not until she sat down next to the Taylors did she realize the irony of the thought. Men with integrity didn’t sleep with their ex-wives.

When Kurt came back out thirty minutes later, everybody stood. He pulled off the mask, which matched his green scrubs. “Josh is fine. The surgery went without a hitch, and he’s gonna have a scar to show to his brothers and the girls.” Kurt gave them a few more details; his calm demeanor allowed everybody to relax.

Lacey started to cry and buried her face in Seth’s chest. Cassie’s eyes watered, too, and Mitch pulled her close.

Zoe turned her back to them all and crossed to the window, saying a silent prayer of thanks. Against her will, tears of relief slipped from her eyes. She swiped at them impatiently.

She felt Kurt come up behind her.

Trying to be strong, she didn’t face him.

His hands went to her shoulders and squeezed gently.

She was assaulted by her senses—the feel of his big frame behind her, his unique scent surrounding her. Against her will, she leaned back into him. Just for a moment she let herself revel in his touch, his smell, his
presence
.

Slowly he circled her around. Without looking up, she let him pull her to him. His chin rested on her head, then he kissed her hair. “It’s all right, sweetheart. He’s fine.”

“I know,” she mumbled against his chest. “I was just so worried.”

“Me, too.”

“You were wonderful. They’ll never forget it.”

“I’m just glad everything turned out all right.” He hugged her closer.

And she didn’t have the strength to pull away. For just a few minutes she let herself be held by the man she’d never stopped loving.

o0o

ERICA STARED at the math test as if it was written in an alien language. She’d never seen an eighty-anything on one of her papers. AP calculus was hard, but that had never mattered before. What could have happened? She held back the panic rising in her.

“This must have been an unusually hard test,” Mr. Hanson said. “The highest grade was eighty-nine.”

The kids called out, “Erica didn’t get a hundred? Not even a ninety? We need a curve.”

She caught Shondra’s eye. Shondra shrugged and showed her the eighty-eight marked in blood-red numerals on her paper. “My mother will kill me,” she mouthed.

“I know,” Erica said back. Quickly she computed her average. Even with this grade, it came to a ninety-eight. That was only one point down from last time.

But her father would have a fit. She remembered when Ms. Caufield spoke with her dad at Parents’ Night about her grades…

Ms. C had pulled herself up straight but had still only reached Jackson Case’s shoulder.
I think Erica’s under a great deal of pressure, Mr. Case. Not all good
.

Her father’s tanned face had reddened. Though only forty-five, he looked older, with lines around his mouth and his hair graying.
I know my daughter, Ms. Caufield. She’s got potential and she’s going to use it. Now, if you’ll excuse us
…

Ms. C had called her father several times for private appointments, but he’d refused to go. If he knew how much time Erica spent with Ms. C he’d object. But he wasn’t home long enough to know how Erica spent her days. He was only interested in her marks.

As Mr. Hanson talked about the most-missed questions, Erica realized her mind had wandered—and that was the problem. Her focus was off. She’d been too caught up with other people’s issues. Ashley’s. This thing with Ms. Caufield. Working at the clinic. She needed to center herself.

And she needed to feel better.

Her gaze strayed to one of the boys two rows away. Carl Pike. Big-time dealer. She knew Shondra had gotten some uppers from him a while back when the pressure from her mother had been too much. At the time Erica had warned her against dabbling in drugs, and she was glad when Shondra stopped using altogether.

But the pills had worked. Shondra had been like a different person, able to concentrate and focus for long periods of time without sleep.

For a few weeks, how harmful could they be?

Fishing in her purse, pretending to search for a tissue, Erica checked her wallet. She found a fifty-dollar bill stashed behind her license in case of emergency.

Hmm. She thought about it the rest of class.

When the bell rang, she hurried out the door.

Just behind Carl Pike.

When they were away from the others, she tapped him on the shoulder.

o0o

“YOU CAN’T ATTEND Down to Earth. Ms. Caufield will just have to excuse you.”

“What?” Shondra looked at her mother incredulously.

“You received a low grade on this test. You have to study. I’ll call Mr. Hanson to see if you can do extra credit.” Joanna Jacobs wore her dark hair tightly cropped, and was dressed, even late at night, in tailored pants and a blouse. She’d come home from her law office and changed from her suit into the outfit. Shondra knew from the past that she even left her panty hose on.

“Ma, that’s ridiculous.”

“Do you have the highest average in the class?”

“No, Erica does.”

“You won’t get the math award at graduation.”

“I can’t get
every
award.”

Joanna’s black eyes widened. “You need to aim for every award.”

“That’s unrealistic.”

“Not for you.”

Shondra swallowed hard. They’d been through this before. “I need some downtime, Ma. I can’t study every minute.”

“Your downtime is that volunteer work you’re doing. The only reason I agreed to it was for college acceptance. And you have time with your family.”

Time with family. Watching National Geographic specials and the History Channel. Attending lectures on cultural diversity. Participating in book discussion groups. All four Jacobs children were so indoctrinated they squeaked with their responsibility to their culture.

It was too much. She faced her mother mutinously. “I’m going.”

“What?”

“I said I’m going to Down to Earth, with or without your permission.”

“Well, we’ll see about that, young lady.”

“Yes,” Shondra said in a steely voice. “We will.”

o0o

THE LITTLE MAN looked like Bob Fosse, with his goatee and lean build. “Next,” he called out. “Julia Starr.”

Julia rose from her seat in one of Julliard’s many theaters, mounted the stairs and crossed to center stage as if her stomach wasn’t leaping like a garden full of grasshoppers. She stopped in the middle, poised and ready.

“What scene have you chosen, Ms. Starr?”

“Act V Scene 1 from
Macbeth
. I’ll be Lady Macbeth.”

“Proceed, then. Our assistant will read the other parts.”

Julia tilted her chin and threw back her head. She stared off into space, imagining Lady Macbeth walking in nightclothes carrying a taper. Julia had even worn a long white flowing dress to look the part. Gracefully she held out her hand. “Yet, there’s the spot.’” She swallowed hard as the assistant read the other lines; in her mind, she watched the blood materialize on her fingers. Her eyes widened, moistened with fright, as she neared the famous soliloquy. “’Out—’” she hesitated “’—
out
damned spot, out I say! One, two, why then…’”

Losing conscious awareness of the auditorium, Julia felt the stickiness of the blood, smelled its sweetness and experienced the terror of a murderer. “Who would have thought the old man to have had so much
blood
in him.’”

Her voice trembled, but held an undercurrent of menace. Of excitement. By the time Lady Macbeth was led away by the servants, she’d shrunken into a ball.

It was a minute before Julia was aware of the applause. Strong. Sure. Even the director clapped.

“Well-done,” he said, then glanced down. “Next.”

Julia crept back to her seat. She was always exhausted after a performance, but she had to get up for her dance/music number, anyway. She plunked down next to a guy wearing a sweat suit and hair that brushed his collar. She noticed a Celtic Cross around his neck. “Great job,” he said softly.

“Thanks.”

“What are you singing?”

“’What I Did for Love,’ from
Chorus Line
. How about you?”

“This year I’m doing ‘Music of the Night’ from
Phantom
.”

Julia frowned. “This year?”

He gave her a beleaguered grin. “Yeah, it’s my second tryout. I didn’t get in last year.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

He shrugged. “I knew it was tough when I applied. I hope I don’t have to wait another year. Three times, you know.”

Unkindly she thought he must not be very good.

Which was why she was stunned when he gave one of the best performances of Stanley screaming “Stella,” from
Streetcar Named Desire
she’d ever seen, or when he belted out the part of the phantom better than Michael Crawford.

An hour later Julia left Julliard’s auditorium shaking. Not from the residue of her role as Lady Macbeth.

But because, for the first time, she realized that despite her incredible talent and her stellar grades, she might not get into the school of her choice.