Mary Ellen Courtney - Hannah Spring 02 - Spring Moon (35 page)

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Authors: Mary Ellen Courtney

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BOOK: Mary Ellen Courtney - Hannah Spring 02 - Spring Moon
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“It doesn’t matter why,” he said. “It only matters how to fix it.”


The next few hours were about getting checked in and checked over. The first thing was to get the infection stopped, then deal with the damage to my finger. I had a form of cellulitis. Not the full-blown flesh-eating disease that can take you down in a matter of hours, but destructive all the same.

My arm had tick marks from pens as the doctors tracked its spread. The first antibiotic seemed to be slowing it down. I was isolated in a private room and treated like a one-woman plague. They didn’t want whatever it was let loose in the hospital.

Jon drifted off to sleep in a lounge chair. A nurse came in and put a blanket over him and turned down the lights. I finally fell asleep.


I woke up alone in the dark room. The doctor was lit up in the hall light talking to Jon, Eric and Anna. I could hear snippets, “Save the hand. Save the arm. IV line in her heart.”

I hit the call button. The doctor glanced up at the light that came on over my door and peered into the darkened room. They trooped in. Anna gave me a hug. Eric, the hospital sissy, kept his distance. He didn’t look so hot.

The doctor explained the basics. They were doing cultures. They needed to hit on the right antibiotic. If it looked like it was out-of-control, they would amputate my arm to prevent it from reaching my heart. He did not want it to get to my heart, or set up shop in any of my organs. I should be prepared to lose the finger. He’d sent pictures to my surgeon; they weren’t optimistic that there would be enough left to repair a second time.

“There was always a possibility that I’d lose the finger,” I said. “At one point I thought maybe it would be better to just do it and get on with my life. I wish I had now. A finger doesn’t sound like a lot compared to an arm.”

“We always try to preserve what we can,” said the doctor. “It’s a difficult decision for all concerned when it might be optional.”

“One of the doctors in Hawaii was in constant pain from an ankle injury. He had it cut off and now he uses one of those curved springs to run marathons.”

“People do it,” he said, “but it takes a mindset most people don’t have when it comes right down to it. In your case, I don’t think you have a choice. We’ll know in the next day or two.”

He switched on the light over the bed and felt up and down my arm. It was still red, swollen and hot. It had started creeping up past the last tick mark again.

“Have you ever taken Cipro?” he asked.

“Sure. They used to pass it out like candy on foreign shoots. I took it once in India when they thought it might be cholera. I was fine.”

He left us. Eric was giving me a strange look.

“Do we need to get a planter?” I asked.

“I’ve never thought about you going on foreign shoots,” he said. “Hearing that about cholera. I always thought it was glamorous.”

“Shooting is never glamorous.”

“How’d you like India, Jon?” he asked.

“I liked it fine. I watched Hannah work, rode around in rickshaws with Ed, drank gin on the hotel roof, and waited for her to come home. Running restaurants is easier.”

The nurse came in with a bag of antibiotics and said breakfast was on the way. Jon left to give Bob and Sherry a hand with the kids; Eric and Anna went along to meet them. I was left alone to float in the empty room and stare at the steady IV drip.

I needed to wrap my mind around the new reality. I was going to lose the finger, maybe an arm. The question was: did I want to live with one arm? If I did, would I get a prosthetic? I couldn’t paddle anymore; I’d just go in circles. I could probably still ski, I rarely used poles. I needed to talk to someone.

I thought about calling Mark. He put his scarred face to the world everyday. I wondered how his torso looked. If he had women or if he felt too damaged to do that. I thought the need for human closeness would overcome the fear, but what did I know? I was going to know something that never entered my mind before. I didn’t know how Jon would deal with a missing arm. I didn’t know how I’d feel about it if the tables were turned. I didn’t think I’d care. I knew I wouldn’t, but that was just speculation. We were just getting back on track. I’d been worrying about him over one finger. I’d never wrap my arms around him or the babies again. Lots of people were like that, they did fine, more than fine. They discovered inner resources and mental strength the rest of us never experience. Blah blah blah. My negotiations with life had begun.


By the next morning, Cipro had put the infection in retreat. My phone rang with a California number; there was a long pause when I answered.

“Who’s this?” asked a woman.

I hate when people do that. Why ask me?

“Who are you calling?” I asked.

She hung up. I started eating and it rang again.

“I think you have the wrong number,” I said.

“I’m trying to reach Jon Moon.”

I looked at the phone; it was Jon’s. He’d apparently left me his so I could call him.

“This is his wife,” I said. “Who’s this?”

“It’s Celeste. I need Mark’s number.”

“I don’t have it, Celeste. Call Jon on my phone, he’ll have it.”

I gave her the number and she hung up without saying good-bye. She wasn’t finding a way to get along with me. I opened the saltines and drank the hot tea. The Jell-O cubes had gluey skin. I pushed the tray away and lay back.

Jon arrived with food from Sherry.

“Bob and Sherry are pretty incredible. The whole neighborhood has turned out to help. Meggie’s showing the neighbor kids how trike riding is done while Gus keeps her out of the street. Sherry is singing to Chance, he can’t stop smiling.”

Eric and Anna had gone home. Karin and Oscar would be over after work. Jon had headed off Mom and Arthur. I didn’t want her angst around. She was having trouble with my bad haircut, an arm would send her over the edge.

“We’ve already adjusted to this once,” he said.

“It might be my whole arm.”

“We’ll adjust,” he said.

“This isn’t henna, this is real. I’m trying to decide whether I’ll get a prosthesis. What would you do?”

“No idea.”

“It’s a big deal, Jon.”

“It’s an accessory, H. If you think you’re getting out of having sex with me for the next forty years because you’re worried about one lousy finger or arm, you can think again.”

“When you’re eighty-seven?”

“Why not? I figure between paddling and pharmaceuticals I can keep up with you.”

“Oh brother. Not Arthur.”

“Arthur’s happy. You promised when we got married.”

“There was no mention of missing body parts or Viagra in our vows.”

“I rest my case.”

“Did Celeste get a hold of you?”

“She wanted Mark’s number. She wants to send him a thank you gift for the ride.”

“How proper. And what perfect timing. She was calling you.”

“I don’t think so, she didn’t mention Chana or her stepchildren.”

“Oh brother. Do you think she’s interested in Mark?”

“Now there’s a picture. She’s terrified of dogs. I was surprised she accepted the ride.”

“I think she was too dazzled by Nancy to put it together. Now I understand the look on her face when they left. I hope Belle chewed on her neck the whole way.”

“What did the doc say?” he asked.

“At best, I’ll end up with a floppy shriveled mess of a finger that’s not dead, but not useful. It sounds worse than having nothing. I feel weirdly calm about losing a finger. I’m afraid of what happens when that wears off.”

“You worried that you’d freak out about setting Margaret on fire. You never did.”

“She wanted that and I had a choice. I don’t want this and I don’t have a choice.”

“You didn’t have a choice with Margaret,” he said. “How could you not? You are what you do, not what you say you’ll do.”

“Jung again?”

He smiled and started putting away food.

“What did he mean about Chance being a favorable thing?” he asked.

“That’s what Chance means in Latin,” I said.

“He speaks Latin?” he asked.

“I don’t know if he speaks it. He knows some, he taught biology.”

“I really hate that guy. I’m not sorry your cool place burned down. Saves me the trouble.”

“God, we have two pyros in the family. You’re worried about a truck driver in cowville?”

“Who talks about my son in Latin and is into my wife. He looks pretty fit too.”

“You’re totally fit. What did you think of his wife?”

“She’s cute, but I’d be gone in the morning.”

“Good answer. You could have skipped cute and the reference to morning.”

“I’d never ask her out.”

“You never asked me out.”

“I asked you out,” he said. “I took you to Victor’s for a fancy dinner. I picked you up. I even wore a new shirt.”

“But I didn’t know it was a date.”

“You didn’t know getting naked with Mike was a date either. You can’t blame us. We knew why we were there. He called a while ago.”

“Mike? What is this, old boyfriends week?”

“Latin guy.”

“He want the money back?”

“He wasn’t calling about money. The number is in your memory.”

He swapped my phone for his.

“He wants to talk to you,” he said.

“What about?” I asked.

“He didn’t say. The only reason I’d make that call is if I felt bad.”

“That call?” I asked.

“Maybe he was just calling to say hello.”

“Say hello? Jon, I’m on drugs here. Should I call him or not?”

“Do what you want.”

“I don’t want to talk to him. I don’t want to think about it anymore. It depresses me. If Jung is right, then I’m what I did and I don’t like it.”

“You didn’t know he was involved with her.”

“I was involved with Steve.”

“An asshole.”

“I don’t think that matters,” I said.

“I do.”

“Is that why Celeste cheated? Because you were an asshole?”

“Yep. And Glen loved her.”

“You still mad at Glen?”

“Nope. I could be stuck with her.”

“You still are, you have Chana. You’ll have grandchildren together. Do you really think you’d still be with her?”

“Not unless I was in a coma, a probable outcome. No one uses so many words to say zero. Less than zero. Epic nothing.”

“Chana said you were always friendly to her parents.”

He shrugged.

“Not sure I’d call it friendly. I wasn’t unfriendly. She’s half that family. I don’t want her to be ashamed the way Celeste is.”

“They wanted to raise her.”

“That was never going to happen. I wouldn’t leave my daughter there.”

“Are they that bad?”

“They’re not bad, they live in a foreign country.”

“They live in Twentynine Palms. That’s only two hours from here.”

“Her father graduated from high school, I’m not sure about her mother. Would you leave your kids to be raised at a truck stop?”

“No. Is that what it’s like?”

“It’s a desert military base. It’s not where I came from and it didn’t have to be where she came from. Not with a mother who grooms and buys furniture sets. Chana could have been trapped.”

He looked at me and gave me a ‘there you have it’ lift of the eyebrows.

“Is that enough truth for this year?” I asked.

“Yep.”

“I love you, Jon. I tried to unlove you but I can’t seem to do it. I’m just going to have to get used to it.”

“God I hope so. You’re only going to have nine fingers. I don’t know how I’ll get through servicing your jugs with that in the back of my mind.”

“Oh my god! I can’t believe you just said that!”

He started laughing until he couldn’t talk.

“Stop laughing! I could end up with one arm.”

“Easier to hold down and boink.”

He was choking with laughter on his black humor. Maybe he’d choke to death. I had to stop giving him material. I stared at him with my Jugs Eli disapproval look, which only made him laugh harder.

“One arm, Jon. Think about that, you lunatic. I won’t be able to wrap my arms around you. I won’t be able to paddle.”

He dried his eyes, sat down on the bed and put his arms around me. He still had a few laughs in him, but he managed to talk.

“You can paddle, you’re not the first,” he said. “We’re going to get through this, H. We have each other. We’ll figure it out.”

“You’re surrounded by an endless stream of beautiful women passing through. They flirt with you. They all want Jon Moon the owner. You’ll be alone on the other islands with a freak wife at home who doesn’t even know how to flirt. They’ll be there, ready to wrap two strong arms around you. You didn’t want me before all this. How can we ever do this?”

“I’ve never stopped wanting you.”

“You did, Jon. You didn’t want me to touch you.”

“You kept trying to make me feel better after I hurt you like that,” he said. “It was a lot of pressure so soon.”

“I’m didn’t mean to pressure you. I was just trying to glue us back together.”

“I know. I wasn’t there yet, but because of us. Not Celeste.”

“You know this is my fault, right? I got impatient.”

“The doc said you could have gotten it anywhere.”

“I don’t mean this infection. I mean all of it. And now I won’t be able to braid Meggie’s hair.”           

“I’ll learn. And it’s not all your fault, H. I can’t let you do that either.”

“I don’t think I can do this, Jon. I really don’t. I’m trying to wrap my head around it and it just won’t wrap.”

“The thing you have to do is be here for us,” he said. “We need you. You’re part of our constellation. You’re the brightest star. We’re meeting with the social worker tomorrow. She’ll give us a list of people who have been through this. We’ll find all the ways to do this.”

“Are you going to talk to their spouses?”

“Yep. I am.”

“Will you get me a tube of Oreos? They’re in the junk food machine on the third floor mezzanine. Get two.”

He went for Oreos. Karin called to check in and I brought her up to date. She asked if I needed anything besides a new limb. I told her a haircut would be nice, my hair was about five different lengths, and not in a good way.

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