Mother's Day (35 page)

They had not been allowed to go into the ambulance with Greg. Technically he was still under arrest, although Chief Matthews had come to the Emergency Room and assured them that Detective Ference was being charged, and that part of their anguish was over. Now, they just had to wait.

“Mom,” Jenny cried, and Karen’s eyes flew open. “One of the doctors.”

They both stood up and looked expectantly at the gowned figure who approached them. There was blood speckled all over his scrubs.

“Is it over?” Karen asked.

The doctor shook his head. “We’ve run into some problems,” he said.

Jenny clutched Karen’s forearm. “What sort of problems?” Karen asked.

“There was a lot of damage to his organs from that bullet, and there’s extensive internal bleeding. This whole thing is complicated by the fact that he had a high fever, probably pneumonia, when he was shot. He’s lost a lot of blood, and unfortunately he’s type AB negative.”

“Why is that unfortunate?” Karen asked, trying to make her voice sound calm and rational for Jenny’s sake.

“It’s a rare type, and we’ve about exhausted our supply.”

Karen nodded, pretending not to be afraid of the implications.

“We’re waiting for some to be sent to us from a blood bank in Boston,” the doctor continued. He looked gravely at Jenny. “The reason I’m telling you all this, is that it would be very helpful if you were able to provide some blood. Being his daughter…”

“Maybe I have the same type!” Jenny cried.

“Well, we would like you to be tested “

“She’s adopted,” Karen said quickly.

The doctor frowned. “Oh, I see “

“Mom,” Jenny protested, “he’s my real father.” She turned to the doctor. “Let me be tested.”

“No,” Karen said sharply. “She’s weak. She’s been through so much.”

The doctor frowned and rubbed his forehead with his forearm. “Is she his biological daughter?”

Karen hesitated. “Well…yes.”

“I wouldn’t ask, but this is a critical situation. Do you know her blood type?”

Karen opened her hands helplessly. “It was never…I mean, we never needed to…”

“That’s not unusual with a healthy child,” said the doctor. “Look, time is precious here.”

Jenny tossed off the sweater she had draped over her shoulders. “Let’s go. I want to be tested.”

“Honey, don’t feel bad if it…you know, proved to be different. I mean, you could have Linda’s blood type. That’s entirely possible.”

“I know, Mom. I take biology.”

“Will you give permission?” asked the doctor.

Karen nodded numbly.

“The nurse has forms. Come with me, young lady.”

Jenny waved to Karen and squared her shoulders. Karen felt an ache in her heart as she watched her go.

She hadn’t wanted to say it aloud, but a repellent possibility kept rising in her mind. It probably started when she read Linda’s note, and it remained there, permeating her thoughts like some poisonous cloud. Jenny might not have been Greg’s child after all. She might have been fathered by Linda’s assailant. After all, Ference had kept Linda in his thrall until she ran away. It was possible that at the same time she had her brief affair with Greg, she was still being used by Walter. God knew, maybe the whole thing with Greg had been a plan, a way for her to get free of Walter Ference. Maybe she was already pregnant when she slept with Greg and she knew it. Maybe, in her desperation, she took advantage of Greg’s longing for a child. All the awful possibilities tumbled through Karen’s mind as she sat there. No matter what, she would never say • these things to Jenny. She didn’t want to plant that idea in the child’s mind, that she may have been fathered by that monster. But there was no getting around it.

Nurse Fisher leaned into the room and looked at Karen kindly. “How are you holding up?” she asked.

Karen smiled thinly. “I’m okay.” She looked at her watch. Jenny had been gone so long.

(“Can I get you some more tea?” the nurse asked. “You’re busy. I’ll get it.” Violet Fisher laughed. “Are you kidding? This is the graveyard shift.”

Gratefully Karen handed over her cup. “That would be great. Thanks.”

“Try not to worry,” said Violet.

Karen nodded and resumed her seat.

Suddenly Jenny burst into the room, pointing proudly to the gauze patch on her arm. “Mom,” she cried. “Look.”

“Sit down, young lady,” said the blood bank worker who accompanied her. “You need to take it easy.”

Jenny beamed at Karen. “We’re the same,” she said. “I gave him blood.”

Karen’s eyes filled with tears and she pulled Jenny to her. Jenny embraced her contentedly. “I think he’s going to be okay, Mom.”

Karen rested her cheek on the top of Jenny’s head and stroked her silky hair. “I’m sure you’re right,” she agreed, feeling suddenly drained of everything, all feeling. She closed her eyes and thanked God. For the first time since this whole nightmare began, she thanked God that Jenny was Greg’s flesh and blood. “You rest now,” she murmured. Mother and daughter both drifted into an uneasy sleep.

Some time later, Violet Fisher shook her shoulder and Karen awoke with a start.

Jenny let go of her mother and stood up. “How is he?” she demanded.

“The doctor says you can go in and see him in recovery for a minute, but you can’t stay. He’s very weak,” the nurse said gently.

Jenny was at the door instantly. “Come on, Mom,” she said.

Slowly Karen rose to her feet and tucked her shirt into her pants.

“Hurry,” said Jenny.

They followed Violet down the hall and stepped past her as she held the door open to the recovery room.

At first Karen didn’t recognize him. He was as pale as the sheets he lay on, and there were tubes attached to him all over. His blond hair seemed to have faded into gray. There was no doubt the stubble of his beard was coming in gray. His muscled arms, under the thin, short-sleeved johnny coat, looked flaccid and useless, outstretched on the sheets. There were gurgling sounds as he breathed, and his eyes were closed.

“Oh, Daddy,” Jenny cried, gazing fearfully at the inert figure on the bed.

He opened his eyes and his gaze moved groggily around the bright, sterile room until it came to rest on Jenny. Then his cracked lips curved into a weak smile. “Hi, baby,” he whispered.

Jenny rushed to his side and took his hand gently, careful not to disturb the IV tube taped to it, a patch of blood blotched beneath the cloudy, yellow tape. “You’re going to be okay,” she said bravely. “You just have to rest. Everything is going to be okay now.”

His gaze was fastened to her face, as if he were watching her from a great distance. When he swallowed, his Adam’s apple moved sluggishly.

“It’s all over now,” she said, and tears filled her eyes. “They know you didn’t do it. So, all you have to do is get well.”

“Okay,” he whispered. He moved his head with painful slowness on the pillow and looked for Karen, by the door. Their eyes met.

Karen’s heart twisted inside of her. She knew the bitterness was still in there, but it was overwhelmed by pity at the sight of the pale stillness of that so familiar, long-loved face. She thought of herself, cowering at Walter Ference’s feet, trying to shield Jenny, and then that gunshot, and he had been there. At her worst moment, when she opened her eyes, he had been there, ill and weak and trying to save them. Being the man she knew.

Jenny reached over and stroked his hair. “You just get well and come home, okay?” she pleaded, and her voice was thick with tears.

His eyes seemed to grow cloudy and he dropped his gaze.

Jenny turned to Karen. “Right, Mom?” she cried. “That’s what we want, isn’t it?”

Karen hesitated for a moment. The thought of revenge crossed her mind. She couldn’t deny it. She could turn and walk away from him here and now, and it would hurt him as much as he had ever hurt her. More, even. In his weakened state, it might kill him. The complete revenge.

And then who would suffer the most? she thought. She knew the answer. She knew herself well enough to know. Truth time, she thought. She walked to his bedside, and he looked up at her. He tried to gaze at her steadily, but his illness was betraying him. She saw him flinch and she felt ashamed.

“That’s right,” she whispered fiercely. “I need you.” Then she did what she wanted to do. She leaned over, held his face gently, and kissed him.