Things Remembered (32 page)

“I'm sorry to do this to you. I know how hard it is for you to leave the shop again, but Heather needs you here with her, Karla.”

“I'll be there in a couple of hours. How do I get to the hospital?”

“Come up Main and turn right on Romie Lane. It's a big building, you can't miss it.”

“Do you want me to call Grace?” She didn't even consider telling Anna. There was nothing she could do except sit and make herself sick with worry.

“I'll do it—as soon as I have to leave Heather's room again. It will give me something to do besides just stand around.”

“Tell Heather I'm coming.”

“The minute she wakes up.”

“And that I love her.”

“She knows, but I'll tell her again anyway.”

She started to hang up when she heard Bill's voice. “I didn't catch that,” she said bringing the receiver back to her ear. “Tell me again.”

“Be careful. It's not going to help Heather if something happens to you.”

“Don't do that, Bill. You have enough to worry about without adding me to the list. I'll be fine.”

“I'm scared, Karla,” he said softly, a catch in his voice. “I don't know what I would do if I lost her.”

“She's not going to leave you, Bill.” She needed him to believe that so she could believe it, too. “I don't care what's wrong with her or what any of the doctors tell you,
Heather is not going to die.
” She couldn't. She wouldn't. She knew what it was like for children to be raised without their mother. She would never do that to her little boys . . . or to her fragile new baby girl.
Three pounds?
Boxes of candy were three pounds, not babies.

“I think I need you as much as Heather does,” he admitted. “I'm not doing very well.”

She got up, went to the dresser and started pulling out clothes that she'd put away less than two weeks ago. “Hang on, Bill. I'll be there as soon as I can.”

Forty-five minutes later, she was on the road headed north. She'd called Tonya to tell her the shop would be closed indefinitely and why, and had almost cried when she offered to step in and take care of things for as long as Karla was gone. While the offer was generous, it wasn't practical, at least not for more than a few days. Tonya could handle the retail end, but had no idea how to place orders, who to place them with, or when to put them in. If Karla was gone more than a week, they would run out of supplies and have to close anyway.

Unless she could find Jim. But she had mixed feelings about asking him to come back. If she could, she'd rather handle this crisis without him. He was out of her life, and she had to start acting that way.

The sun was up by the time Karla pulled into the hospital parking lot. Her fear had grown with every mile, almost overwhelming her by the time she reached Salinas. She'd considered calling en route, but had turned cowardly at the last minute and driven straight through. Now she could barely get out of the car, she was so scared what she might find.

For hours she'd been avoiding the thought of what it would be like to lose her sister. At unguarded moments a tentacle of fear would sneak past her defenses and give her a preview of profound loneliness. She began a mantra of mental pleas to Heather, begging her to fight whatever forces threatened to take her away.

Karla told her sister to think of her children, of Bill, of sunshine and hummingbirds and Christmas—of a sister who loved her more than life itself. If there were a bargaining table somewhere, a place where she could go to offer her life for Heather's, she would skip the hospital and go there directly. Heather's life was important; she was needed and loved and would leave a giant hole in the fabric of a dozen lives if she died. Karla could slip away and join their mother to make a place for Anna with only fleeting notice. The bargain would be a good one.

Forcing herself to get out of the car and face her fears, Karla went inside the hospital and asked directions. After verifying she was who she said she was, she was let into the maternity ward. She found Bill in the hallway leaning against the wall, his hands pressed to his face.

“What happened?” she asked him. She'd always taken pride in her ability to dig deep and face whatever life sent her way. At that moment all she wanted to do was turn around and run out of the hospital and not come back until someone told her it was safe. “Why are you out here?”

He looked up, and when he saw that it was Karla, put his arms around her. He held on as if she were the messenger bringing long-awaited good news. “Nothing's changed.”

“Why are you out here?”

“Her doctors and a couple of nurses are in there now and I was in the way.” He let her go and leaned against the wall again.

“How's the baby?” She asked because she knew it was expected. Not only didn't she feel the same sense of joy that had come with Jason's and Jamie's births, she was angry at the little girl who had put her mother in the hospital and left her fighting for her life.

“The doctor said she's doing fine so far. I spent a couple of minutes with her after she was born, but I haven't had a chance to go back since.”

“Who's with her?”

He frowned. “What do you mean?”

“She's not alone, is she?”

“There's a nurse with her.”

“No family?”

“There isn't any family to spare, Karla,” he said defensively. “My mom is taking care of the boys and my sister's out of the country.”

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply— Never mind. I just hate to think of her in there all alone.” She put her hand on his arm. “I wish I could have gotten here sooner. You shouldn't have had to go through this by yourself.”

“I never should have let her talk me into having another baby. I knew how dangerous it could be.”

“As long as it wasn't a hundred percent certain that she would have the placenta previa again, there was no way you were going to talk Heather out of trying for another baby. I've thought a lot about the DNA thing, and as much as I hate to admit it, I understand what drove Heather to do what she did.”

“Well, I don't. Why weren't the three of us good enough for her?”

At last she understood why Bill was out in the hall instead of with his daughter. His fear had made him angry, too. Understanding brought a strange kind of peace. “You and Jason and Jamie are Heather's world, Bill. She wasn't trying to take anything away from you, she wanted to share even more of herself by giving you a daughter.”

“I'm sorry, but that doesn't make sense. I was perfectly happy the way we were. Heather knew that. She and the boys are everything to me. I didn't need a daughter to feel complete.”

“But Heather did.”

“We should have been enough for her. It's not as if she didn't know what it's like for kids to lose their mother.”

She stood so that he had to look at her. “You're right. And that should tell you that she never seriously considered the possibility anything would happen to her or the baby.” Without conscious thought, the protective circle Karla had built around her family expanded to include its newest member. No longer was Heather's little girl “the baby,” she was Anna Marie—someone Karla would love and protect with every breath, with every ounce of her being.

“Anna Marie needs you as much as Heather does.” She reached for his hand. “As soon as the doctor comes out and I've seen Heather, I want you to do me the honor of introducing me to my niece.”

He squeezed her hand in silent communication.

“It's going to be okay,” she said.

“I'm glad you're here.”

“Me, too.”

The door opened and a small parade of people came out. A tall man in a gray suit stopped to talk to Bill. After a cursory introduction to explain her presence, the man she learned was Heather's doctor basically ignored Karla and focused his attention on Bill.

“She's doing better,” he said. “We're not out of the woods yet, but I don't expect anything to happen that will slow her recovery. Does she know she's had a hysterectomy?”

Karla flinched at the news. Heather would be devastated to know that the choice of whether or not to have more children was no longer hers to make.

“She hasn't been awake long enough for me to tell her,” Bill said.

“She was just waking up when I left. If you'd prefer, I'll go back in and tell her what happened for you.”

“No, I'll do it,” Bill said. “If she has any questions I can't answer, I'll have the nurse give you a call.”

“You can expect her to be depressed—that's natural. Even if the two of you weren't planning on having any more children, Heather's lost an important part of her body. It's not something she's going to take lightly, nor should she. As far as the depression goes, however, we'll only worry about it if it lasts more than a couple of weeks.” He turned to Karla. “What she could use from you is someone to listen. Being able to talk about what's happened to her, and giving her some time to come to grips with it, are better medicine than anything we've been able to come up with. Unless it goes on too long. In that case, we've got some other things we can look into.”

“Can we see her now?” Karla asked.

“Just don't let her get overtired or too excited.”

“You go ahead,” Bill said. “There are a couple of other things I'd like to go over with Dr. Agostini now before I forget what they are.”

Karla nodded and left them standing in the middle of the hallway. The entire trip she'd tried to prepare herself for what she would see when she walked into the room, picturing everything from Heather sitting up in bed with Anna Marie in her arms to her lying with a sheet pulled over her face. The first image she nurtured, the second she forced out of her mind.

What she'd neglected to take into consideration was the impact the monitors would have on her. On television and in the movies the machines were secondary to the drama, tucked into a corner or behind the bed. Here they took center stage, an ominous reminder that all was not as it should be with the person attached to the wires.

Karla had to move to the foot of the bed to get an unencumbered view of Heather. She prepared herself with a smile, convinced her attitude was as important as her presence. “Sorry it took so long for me to get here,” she said softly.

Heather tried to return the smile, but when she moved her mouth, her lips trembled and her breath caught in a sob. “I really messed things up this time.”

Karla moved closer, trying not to look at the bag of blood dripping into Heather's arm or to focus too obviously on how pale and frighteningly ill she looked. She leaned over the railing to give Heather a kiss and to take her hand. “How can you say that? You have your daughter, Heather. She's here and she's doing fine.”

“Have you seen her?”

“Not yet. I just arrived a few minutes ago and wanted to check on you first.”

“Something's wrong. I don't know what it is, but I can feel it.”

The sad conviction in Heather's voice threw Karla. Was there something she hadn't been told either? “I swear to you, no one has said anything about Anna Marie having a problem. I would tell you if they had.”

“Then it has to be me. Am I going to die?” A tear escaped one eye and slowly rolled down her cheek. “I can't die, Karla. Jamie and Jason need me. Bill can't be both father and mother to them.”

“Anna Marie needs you, too.” Karla captured the tear with the back of her finger. “Maybe most of all.”

“She's so tiny. I try, but I can't picture what she looks like in my mind. I can see Jason and Jamie when they were babies, but she's just this voice crying out to me in pain. I did that to her, Karla. She's suffering because of me.”

She should never have come in without Bill. “What makes you think she's suffering?”

“She needed me and I let her down. The doctor told me it was time for me to go to bed and stay there, but I was so sure that if I was careful, I could wait until after Christmas. If Bill finds out, he'll never forgive me.”

“Good grief, Heather. Is there anything you don't feel guilty about?” The question had been automatic and one she was sure the doctor wouldn't approve of.

Heather eyed her. “You're supposed to feel sorry for me.”

Karla could tell Heather's answer had been just as automatic. She couldn't help but smile. “Well, it didn't take long for us to start acting like sisters again.”

The smile she returned barely touched her lips, but radiated from her eyes. “Thank you for coming.”

“You couldn't have kept me away.”

The door opened and Bill came inside. Karla studied him to see if she could read anything untoward in his expression. He wasn't even aware of her looking at him; he saw only Heather.

She moved out of his way. He went to the bed and leaned close, kissing Heather and touching her face with gentle strokes of his fingertips. Finally, he took her hand and brought it to his cheek. “You are the air I breathe,” he said in a hushed whisper. “And I fall deeper in love with you with every breath.”

They were the most intimate, beautiful words Karla had ever heard spoken. What she and Jim had shared was an adolescent crush compared to this.

“Forgive me?” Heather asked.

“Yes . . . now that I know you aren't going to leave me.”

“I'm sorry.”

“I don't want to hear that. You were right, Heather. Anna Marie was worth the risk.”

Karla wondered if Heather had any idea how much that statement had cost Bill. She had no doubt he really would come to feel that way in time, but for now, the reminders of how close he'd come to losing Heather were too real.

She eased her way out, knowing she wouldn't be missed, comforted by the knowledge that Heather had someone who would see her through whatever was ahead.