Time for Grace (2 page)

Kip nodded and sort of tugged on the collar of his jacket. “This was my grandfather’s. He flew B-29’s in World War II. My dad was a fighter pilot in Vietnam. I thought about the Air Force but I had my pilot’s license by the time I was seventeen. It felt like I’d be going backward in life since they wouldn’t guarantee me flight school. I guess I got interested in the Angel Flight organization because it lets me volunteer to serve people in need and still do what I love.”

“I’m certainly grateful for what you do. And to your airline for lending the airplane. Grace couldn’t have gotten to Philadelphia any other way.”

Kip was always uncomfortable with gratitude from either the patients he was called on to ferry places for treatment or from their desperate family members. He did what he did in his free time to keep others from experiencing the pain of losing a loved one. His father’s sudden death when Kip was only seven years old had shaped his life with a devastating kind of pain that he freely admitted he’d never gotten past. Nor had he been able to forget the sounds of his mother’s grief as she’d cried into her pillow night after night. Probably because he’d cried silent tears right along with her.

When his father was followed in death by his uncle two years later everything got much worse. His aunt and his mother had pooled their resources to stay afloat. Raising eleven children under one roof in order to ease the financial burden that Kevin and Galen Webster left behind had made for one wild household full of women and girls—except for him.

Being the lone male hadn’t always been easy. But he loved women. He loved children. He’d wanted one day to be the kind of husband and father his had been all the while living in fear of losing his mother or aunt.

His fear changed and so did his plans for his future when his aunt sat him down days shy of his eighteenth birthday. She’d told him the truth about the Webster family affliction. Not a single Webster man in as many generations as had been recorded in the family bible had lived past the age of forty. She’d said their hearts were time bombs.

His heart.

And she’d said that the pain and grief could end with him because the heredity didn’t seem to pass to the sons of Webster-born women. She’d urged him not to be as selfish as his uncle and father had been.

To let the grief end with him.

He’d remembered his mother at his father’s funeral—that frozen look in her eyes. She’d looked so breakable and later that night in the privacy of her room he’d heard the shattering grief explode into tears.

He’d remembered the hollow look of his grandmother the days she’d buried each of her sons. He’d never known his granddad and that day he’d realized why. And worse, he’d known that his mom would one day stand at his grave, wearing that same hollow look of loss.

He’d remembered all mac-and-cheese dinners when he’d wished and prayed for a slice of meat. He hadn’t complained though because it was his mom going off to work exhausted with awful colds and the remnants of stomach viruses that had paid for those meals.

Now he glanced at Sarah Bates. At her serviceable slacks and coat and her worn sneakers. Money was clearly tight for her just as it had been for his mom and aunt. Sarah was a pretty young woman with rich chestnut hair that she’d pulled back in a simple bouncing ponytail. Lively as her hair was whenever she moved her head, she wore a tired expression in her deep brown eyes that he’d seen too often in his mom’s. Scott Bates’s widow had more on her shoulders than she should have to bear alone.

And she was apparently very alone.

She reminded Kip why he lived his own life alone. No woman would ever struggle to overcome the burdens
he’d
left behind. No children would watch helpless to lend her their assistance. And no son of his would face the prospect of having only half a lifetime to do his living.

He’d tried to find out if there was anything wrong with his heart but his family doctor had shaken his head and told him he was imagining things. That he was healthy as a horse. Unfortunately, his aunt Emily had confided that his uncle Galen had passed a physical with flying colors the morning he died and his father, Kevin, had been an airline pilot with a clean bill of health, too. Every year Kip passed his flight physical and was deemed to be in good health but he knew that apparently it didn’t mean a thing.

“So, how long do you think you’ll be in Philly?” he asked Sarah, wanting to get his thoughts off himself.

“That’s going to depend on what the doctor says. If he thinks he can fix Grace’s heart problem, and he did seem to think he could, she’d be expected to stay till she can safely go back to Virginia.” A look of concern creased the space between her eyebrows.

“Have you lived there all your life?”

She shook her head. “I’ve lived so many places it feels as if I’ve never lived anywhere. I thought Piedmont Point would be home. I have to be honest, though, I don’t really want Grace to go back to Winston-Baily Medical Center. It’s small and rural and I don’t think it’s the best place for her. When I went into labor so early, they acted as if she was already gone.”

“They obviously changed their minds,” he said and glanced back toward Grace.

Sarah smiled. “Because my daughter had other ideas. Each breath was a struggle for her, but she wouldn’t give up, and that left them no choice. Even at one pound three ounces, Grace has twenty pounds of fight in her. She’s going to make it.”

Kip returned the grin that spoke of Sarah’s parental pride in her tiny, plucky infant. “A force to be reckoned with, huh?”

She nodded, still wearing that soft, proud smile.

“I can see why you wouldn’t want them responsible for her care but what will you do about your job? You’re a teacher?”

Sarah nodded, her glossy, deep-brown ponytail bobbing at the back of her head. “At a K-through-twelve Christian school in Piedmont. I’m the school’s art teacher. My maternity leave was over Friday but I can’t just leave Grace in Philadelphia alone so…” She shrugged. “I just don’t know. As I said, a lot depends on what Doctor Prentice says. And then, of course, how Grace does in surgery.”

Kip looked away and pretended to check his instruments. He didn’t even want to think of what would take Sarah back to West Virginia immediately. They both knew it would mean Grace wasn’t a candidate for the surgery. And that would mean nothing could save her. There was also the very real possibility that the surgery itself could prove too much for Grace.

He prayed that neither would be the outcome for the valiant little girl who’d stolen his heart the moment he’d seen her little chest moving with each beat of her heart. Anyone that determined to survive deserved her shot at life. As always, Kip could only rely on faith and the Almighty’s goodness and wisdom.

Lord, it’s me again,
Kip prayed silently.
I have another of Your little ones here with me. Please, bless every aspect of her trip. Bless Dr. Prentice with the skill to succeed. Bless Grace with the life she’s so valiantly fighting to have.

Kip looked next to him where Sarah Bates had turned to look back at her tiny baby—a look of hope and innocence shining from her deep brown eyes.

And, Lord, maybe You could send someone to watch out for Sarah, too.

Because much as he was tempted to lend a helping hand, Kip found Sarah Bates a little too special. And he always steered clear of temptation like that.

S
arah woke groggily, conscious of being in her darkened hotel room near the hospital. As she pushed herself into a sitting position on the side of the bed, she thought of the University of Pennsylvania’s Children’s Hospital. It had been quite a surprise after Winston-Baily.

At CHOP, as everyone called the huge hospital, a bright happy lobby all dressed for the holidays had greeted her and Grace when they’d entered the huge facility. And that radiant, festive and nonthreatening atmosphere continued throughout.

A layer of Christmas cheer blanketed the entire facility. But she could tell the decorators hadn’t sacrificed function or efficiency for ambiance. So far everyone and every procedure she’d witnessed had been methodical and professional. The staff were extremely serious about the health and well-being of the children in their care.

Many children there were older and stronger than Grace but just as many were fighting for life against cancer and varied severe birth defects. Grace’s prospects suddenly seemed less tragic by comparison.

Unable to rest once her mind veered onto her child, Sarah jumped up, tore out her ponytail to run a comb through her hair and redo the simple practical style. She shrugged on her jacket, while already heading out her door and down the hall. As she dodged rush-hour traffic, she wondered if this big bustling city, that had been dressed up festively for the coming holiday, would become her new home or just another temporary stop in a life full of temporary stops.

After scrubbing up before entering the NICU, the hospital’s Neo-natal Intensive Care Unit, Sarah looked around at the bright happy primary colors of the modern surfaces and equipment. Winston-Baily might have called their unit a NICU but this felt like a world, and not just a few states, away. She didn’t need a medical degree to know Grace was better off here.

A nurse waved and motioned her toward the back of the nursery. At last Sarah entered and padded in, anxious to see Grace.

“Here she is, Mommy. All safe and sound,” the same African-American nurse called out softly, motioning from the far end of the room.

Sarah hadn’t met this nurse and could only imagine that something to do with the hospital’s elaborate security system had let her know which baby Sarah belonged with. While walking back to Grace, she noticed that even the Isolettes were decorated with bows and Christmas balls. It was so nice to see all these tiny humans being treated like children who would notice their surroundings. That alone compelled her to take notice of the other babies.

Most were bigger than Grace and pinker with normal non-transparent skin. Many had less equipment attached to them and were clearly further along than Grace. But none were as beautiful or special. Not to Sarah anyway. But she wasn’t so besotted with Grace that she didn’t know their parents felt the same way about each and every one of them.

After looking her fill at Grace nestled in what had to be a state-of-the-art bed, Sarah looked up at the nurse. “Hi. I’m Sarah.” She presented her identification bracelet for examination anyway. “How’s she doing?”

The nurse checked the bracelet, compared it to one on Grace’s thin ankle then smiled as she wrote something on the chart attached to her bed. “She settled right in. No surprises. That’s what we hope for with a transfer.”

“Why isn’t she in an isolette?”

“This is what’s called a flat bed. It makes handling her while she’s still on the ventilator easier. The mattress keeps her warm so don’t you worry. I’m Leslie Washington, Grace’s evening nurse. Dr. Prentice was in a while ago. He asked me to have you stop in at his office when you got back.”

Sarah nodded. “Can you give me directions? This place is enormous.”

Nurse Washington nodded. “Sure is. Suppose I draw you a map to the doc’s office so we don’t lose you.” She grabbed an eight-and-a-half by eleven form and flipped it over to the blank side and quickly sketched out a map to Dr. Prentice’s office. After verbally explaining the directions, Leslie wrote the office number at the top. “I’ll page him and have him meet you there. Good luck, honey.”

After one more long look at Grace, Sarah started off for Doctor Prentice’s office. It took nearly ten minutes but she found the doctor’s suite exactly where Leslie said it would be. Sarah sank onto a comfy-looking sofa in the empty waiting room. She glanced through several parenting magazines and a few on fashion. Then she just closed her eyes and dropped her head back against the stiff leather upholstery and absorbed the feeling of knowing her baby was being well cared for.

“Sarah?” she heard from far away. “Sarah,” called the voice again. She frowned, struggling to wake. She couldn’t place the voice but she thought she’d heard it before. Curiosity helped her to force her eyes open. Standing before her was a tall, gray-haired man in a wacky Christmas-printed lab coat, a dress shirt and jeans. She might not have readily recognized his voice but his smile and his Disney print ties were unforgettable. Doctor Joachim Prentice.

“Dr. Prentice,” she said, smiling back at him. They’d met in Africa when she’d joined her parents just after she’d graduated from Liberty University with her teaching degree. He’d had such a striking rapport with the children in the refugee camp that he was impossible to forget. He’d jokingly claimed cartoon ties dissolved all social boundaries and language barriers. Sarah still thought it was his benevolent smile.

“I must have drifted off. Excuse me, please,” she said, yawning as he backed up a few steps to lean against the receptionist’s counter.

“Don’t be silly. Sit. Sit,” he ordered when she made a move to stand. “We can chat right here. We have the place to ourselves and my office is a mess anyway. And don’t worry about the cat nap. It’s understandable. I’m told you’ve been keeping quite a schedule at Winston-Baily.”

“She does better when I’m around,” she countered.

“The nurses told me I was imagining it but I noticed a difference in Grace’s oxygen levels when I’m with her.”

“Actually, you’re probably right but you’re only human, Sarah. My first move with Grace will go a long way toward alleviating some of that stress on both of you. I’d like to start supplementing your milk with a special formula. It should help get some weight on her. And as important as bonding with her is, you can’t spend all your time here. There’s going to be plenty of time for you two after she goes home.”

“I-I suppose,” Sarah said, her mind whirling. He not only believed she was good for Grace, he believed she’d come home one day. Finally, here was someone with as much hope as she had. Her eyes filled with tears.

Doctor Prentice sat on the sofa next to her and handed her a tissue, then he covered her other hand with his. “Now don’t start worrying about taking her home. You’ll do fine when the time comes.”

Sarah shook her head. He didn’t get it. “It’s not that. I can’t wait to have Grace home with me no matter how much extra work she’ll be. No one at Winston-Baily ever acted as if anything I did helped her, and none of them ever talked about her having a future. It was like I was the only one who believed she had one.”

“Well, I don’t see it that way,” he said, sounding annoyed. “I looked her over a while ago and I studied her records before she got here. She looks better to me than they indicated and I was already pretty sure I’d be able to help her. I can see no reason not to do the surgery after we get her just a little stronger.”

His phone rang and he answered it after checking the caller ID. Sarah felt profound disappointment and worry settle on her again. She’d thought the worry would be over by tomorrow. Now she’d be on pins and needles for weeks hoping against the odds that Grace would make it through surgery.

“That was Peter Kelly,” Doctor Prentice explained after ending the call. “He’s the neonatologist I called in on Grace’s case. He’ll take care of her everyday needs. You’ll meet him a little later. He concurs that we should wait a couple weeks for the surgery.”

Doctor Prentice pulled a small notebook out of his pocket then, and drew a diagram of a heart. “This isn’t a rare problem Grace has,” he said in a soothing tone. “Actually it’s one of my more common surgeries,” he told her, pointing to his drawing and explaining the surgery. He really made it sound routine.

That made Sarah feel better.

“Now on to the bonding problem. She’ll have the same four nurses in twelve-hour rotations. We do this so they get to know her and she gets to know them. You really can’t keep up a schedule of being with her all the time. Now let’s talk about after her surgery.”

Prentice sighed and raked his fingers through his already unkempt hair. “Sarah, I have to advise you not to take her back to Winston-Baily. I’m not trying to bad-mouth another facility, but here at CHOP we’re used to kids like Grace. Those folks are simply out of their depth with a micro preemie. After surgery, we can transfer her to another children’s hospital nearer there, if that would work better for you. I can make some calls.”

It was almost a relief to hear her own thoughts confirmed. “No
place
is as important as Grace. I’m more than willing to move here for her sake. I’d been thinking about it already. I’ll start trying to find a place to live and a teaching position right away.”

He nodded. “That’s good…that’s fine. Grace has a couple tricky years ahead of her. She’ll be better off here or I wouldn’t suggest that you uproot yourself.”

“If here is better for her, then here’s where we’ll be. West Virginia wasn’t home anyway.”

He glanced at his watch again. “Okay then. I need to get down to the NICU. Do you want to walk with me?”

She hadn’t really gotten the chance to visit with Grace so she walked back to the NICU with him. Once there, she met Doctor Peter Kelly, then while the neonatologist conferred with Doctor Prentice, Sarah took the opportunity to bond some more with her baby girl. The open bed gave her so much more access it excited her. They would no longer be separated by a barrier of plastic. And someday soon, she might even get to hold her child in her arms.

Sarah stood looking down at Grace. Bending, she let the baby hold her hand. Grace’s tiny hand was the size of Sarah’s thumb and seemed to instinctively curl around it. Nurses in the NICU in West Virginia said it was reflex only but Leslie acted as if Grace really knew what she was doing. Eyes tearing, she whispered, “Bye, baby girl. Mommy’s going to find a way to keep you here in Philadelphia. I’ll be back later and you’ll be here waiting for me,” she assured her child. It was her standard leave-taking—something of a ritual she hoped would one day be a thing of the past.

Sarah stood straight then and took a deep fortifying breath before forcing herself to step away, once again leaving her child behind.

If only God hadn’t turned a deaf ear to her pleas that horrible night when she’d awakened in labor. If only she could be
sure
Grace would live to grow up and that Sarah would find a way to give her a good life.

All afternoon Kip hadn’t been able to get Sarah and Grace Bates out of his mind. Had Prentice okayed the surgery? Were they even now operating? Was Sarah waiting alone for word on her child?

He tried not to get involved with the families or the patients he transported, but all his rules had dissolved the moment he’d met Sarah and Grace. He told himself it was just the time of the year getting to him. That it was the approaching holidays making their story seem so compelling and heart-tugging.

Whatever the reason, he finally gave in and admitted he had to know what had happened. The trip into the city wasn’t easy even though Philly’s nearly four-hour-long rush “hour” shouldn’t be a problem on a Saturday. But a great deal of holiday traffic was apparently headed to the large center city shopping district. He arrived at CHOP after dark and went to the NICU first. He talked to one of the nurses he knew, and learned that Grace was there and not in an OR. Of course, the nurse couldn’t release any more information than that, so he walked across the street to the hotel to talk to Sarah.

Dressed in lights and Christmas decorations, the street was quieter than usual. The students had deserted the University of Pennsylvania campus, gone home for their winter holiday. And the shopping district was across the river, twenty or so blocks away. Right then the hospitals and hotels were the major draw in this neighborhood.

As Kip approached the front doors of the hotel, Sarah stepped outside. Just seeing her delivered a sharp blow to his stomach. She really was lovely. He was tempted to turn away—to flee—but he noticed she had stopped just outside the door to look at a newspaper she had folded in fours. Her purse hung loosely on her arm and she seemed completely absorbed in the paper, unaware of her surroundings. Unaware of the hidden dangers that could be lurking in the shadows.

Philadelphia was a big busy city with more than its fair share of crime even on the University of Pennsylvania’s well-patrolled campus. Didn’t she know she had to be on guard in a big city like this?

“Sarah,” he called out. She looked up, her gaze vague and unfocused. Honestly, the woman was a danger to herself.

“Oh, hi. I didn’t think I’d see you again,” she said.

“I kept thinking about Grace and what Prentice’s verdict was. Surgery or no surgery?”

A look settled onto her face that combined distraction with profound worry. “He says she’s too weak now but he’ll operate as soon as it’s safer.” There was a distinct quaver in her voice that went straight to his heart.