Fertility: A Novel (22 page)

“That’s good. Take care of the baby first,” she whispered. “Please, Jeff. That’s the most important thing.”

“You’ll be in the OR in a couple of minutes and Dr. Hanna will be delivering your baby by Cesarean section. After that, you’ll be all mine,” Jeff said. “Your right lower leg has suffered a high-energy injury. I am going to do my best to fix it. I anticipate that the surgery may take several hours.”

“Can I be awake to see the baby born? Can I hold it?”

“I’m not really sure what Dr. Hanna has planned for anesthesia, but it’s possible she’ll order a general, since we’ll be coming in right after her to work on your leg. If that’s the case, then you’ll get to hold the baby as soon as you come out of recovery.”

She started to tear up. “Oh, please. I want to see the baby born. I want to hold it. Please.”

Jeff swallowed hard. He would prefer general anesthesia, given the extent of the injuries, but if he had to, he could work with an epidural and have the anesthesiologist give Sarah enough sedation to make her out of it during surgery.

“I’ll see what Dr. Hanna says. I’ll do what I can. But Sarah, your health and the baby’s health have to come first. I promise, if it’s a general anesthesia I will personally hold your baby and welcome it to the world. And your parents are on their way, so Grandma and Grandpa will take over after that.” He looked up to see the transporters from the OR, ready to take their patient upstairs.

“Jeff. If they knock me out…it’s Eric for a boy and Anna for a girl.”

Jeff looked at her, confused. Then he understood. “Oh, those are your names for the baby?”

Sarah nodded.

“Got it: Anna for a girl and Eric for a boy.”

Sarah nodded again and then gave a little smile. “Thanks, Jeff.” Then she closed her eyes as she was rolled out of the ER and into the waiting elevator.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

It was only because her college was on semester break that Eva was home that January afternoon. She was working in her study on a collection of short stories, her first. She was deep within the world of her characters when the telephone rang. The interruption annoyed her; she was on a roll and the story was almost writing itself. She entertained the idea of letting it go to voice mail before thinking better of it. It could be her mother, felled by some insult spawned by old age. And, of course, Sarah was getting close to her due date.

“Hello,” Eva said as she cradled the receiver between her ear and her shoulder so she could finish typing the sentence she was working on.

“I’m calling from the emergency room at University Hospital in Manhattan. I am trying to reach Eva or Joseph Abadhi, parents of Sarah Abadhi.”

Eva stopped typing and put the receiver in her hand. “Excuse me. Who did you say you were?”

“My name is Reginald Washington, ma’am. I’m an emergency room nurse calling for the parents of Sarah Abadhi. Do I have the correct phone number?”

“Yes,” Eva answered cautiously, afraid of a scam artist fishing for information. “Why are you calling?”

“Am I speaking with Eva Abadhi?”

“Yes.”

“There was a large construction accident this afternoon around East 73rd Street and Lexington Avenue and your daughter was a pedestrian in the area. She was injured in the accident.”

Seventy-Third Street. Close to Sarah’s apartment. But she wouldn’t have been there at that time of day. “I’m sorry, sir. What is your name again?”

“Reginald Washington, ma’am.”

“My daughter is at work in Midtown, Mr. Washington. I just spoke to her a few hours ago. You must be mistaken.”

The ER nurse was patient. It was not uncommon for the news he had to deliver to be received with suspicion or disbelief. He would take his time to get the needed information to the victim’s next of kin before ending the call.

“No, ma’am. There is no mistake. The information comes from the EMTs who worked with your daughter. Ma’am, have you been listening to the radio or watching television this afternoon?”

“No. No, I’ve been working. Why?”

“There’s been a major accident in the vicinity of 73rd Street and Lexington Ave. I am sorry to inform you that your daughter, Sarah, was hurt in the accident.”

“Just a minute. Let me turn on the television.” Eva ran from her study to the family room to turn on CNN. There on the screen was a live report from the scene of a crane accident on the Upper East Side of Manhattan. The aerial view showed devastation on the order of a bomb blast or gas explosion. The natural light was beginning to recede, and the area was bathed in bright, emergency lighting. She couldn’t imagine anyone surviving an accident of such magnitude. Eva’s knees buckled and the phone dropped from her hand. Sprawled on the floor, she remembered the ER nurse. He had to tell her about Sarah. She grabbed the phone lying beside her.

“Are you still there Mr. Washington?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m still here.”

“Oh my God. Tell me about my daughter.”

“Yes, ma’am. The EMTs stabilized her before she was brought to our trauma center.”

“And the baby?”

“Mrs. Abadhi, I have no information on the condition of the fetus.”

The words reverberated in Eva’s head. No information on the condition of the fetus. The fetus she was sorry Sarah had conceived so carelessly. The fetus she and Joseph had come to accept, whose birth they now eagerly awaited.

“Are you still there Mrs. Abadhi?”

“Yes. Please give me the address of the hospital so my husband and I can get to her. Let me get a pen and paper.” She got up and raced to the kitchen, grabbing a sheet off her grocery list pad. Her hands shook as she wrote down the address.

“Mr. Washington?”

“Yes, ma’am?”

“Are you really certain this is my daughter — Sarah Abadhi — who was hurt?”

“Yes, I’m certain.” Then the nurse broke from the official protocol to relay the story told to him by Tommy, the EMT. “Mrs. Abadhi, apparently when the rescue team reached your daughter at the scene, she spelled her last name and rattled off your home and office numbers. The EMTs said she was completely lucid and cooperative. They said she was an IKE — I Know Everything. They all got a charge out of her.”

That started the tears flowing. Lucid and talking and the same know-it-all she’d been since she was little. “Thank you, Mr. Washington. You’ve been very kind,” Eva said, wiping her face with the back of her hand.

“Would you like me to inform Mr. Abadhi of the accident?” the nurse asked.

“No. I’d better do it. Good-bye and…again… thank you.”

“Good-bye, Mrs. Abadhi. Best of luck to your family.”

* * *

Eva’s blood ran cold at the thought of telling Joseph. Then she had an idea. As she watched the scene on the muted television, she called Sarah’s cell phone. Perhaps it was all a misunderstanding. Maybe Sarah was just on the periphery of the accident. Maybe she had just suffered a few scratches. Sarah’s phone rang and rang before going to voice mail. Hearing Sarah tell her to leave a message sent a shiver through Eva. What if she never heard Sarah’s voice again? She hung up and pushed the speed dial for Joseph, praying that he’d remembered to turn on his phone. On the fifth ring, he picked up.

“Hi, honey. I’m in the middle of something with Bob. Can I call you right back?”

“No, Joe. Don’t hang up. Something’s happened.”

Eva’s voice alarmed him. It was the same voice he’d heard years earlier when her father had suffered a massive stroke. His mind turned immediately to Rivka.

“What happened? Is Rivka okay?”

“No, not her. It’s Sarah.”

“Sarah? Is the baby coming? Is that it?”

“No, Joe. She’s been in an accident.”

His chest tightened. “An accident? What sort of accident?”

Riveted by the images of devastation on the television, Eva found it hard to speak.

“Eva. Eva. Are you there? What sort of accident was Sarah involved in?”

She inhaled deeply, cleared her throat and tried again. “There was…there was a construction accident. In Sarah’s neighborhood. She’s been injured, Joe.”

“Do you know her condition?”

Here was a ray of hope she could convey. “The ER nurse said she was lucid and talking. That’s good, isn’t it, Joe? He said she rattled off our home and office numbers to the EMTs. He even said they got a kick out of that.” Eva willed herself not to cry.

“Oh, that’s very good, sweetheart. Definitely a good sign. Do you know what hospital they brought her to?”

“Yes, I have all the particulars written down. Just come home so we can go and be with her.”

“Eva?” Joseph hesitated to ask. “What about the baby?”

“The nurse had no information on the baby. Joe, if anything happens to it I’ll never forgive myself. I was so angry at first. Now I’ve come to love that baby.”

“I know, Eva. I know. We both have,” Joseph said in an almost confessional tone. “I’ll be home as fast as I can.”

“Joe, maybe it would be better if someone drove us into the city. Neither of us will be able to concentrate on the road.”

“That’s a good idea. I’ll see if I can find someone in the lab.”

“Joe?” Eva said, almost in a whisper.

“Yes, Eva.”

“What if it turns out badly?”

“We can’t think that way, Eva. Sarah’s a strong girl, a runner, a swimmer. Look, I’ll be home soon.”

“Okay, Joe.”

“Good-bye, sweetheart.”

Joseph hung up and put his head in his hands, giving himself permission to be scared for just a moment. He longed for the time when Sarah was young, when he could keep her safe. He’d been helpless on that front for a long time now.

Bob Fong, his colleague and friend, gently asked, “Is there something I can do?”

Joseph looked up and saw the concern on his face. “Sarah’s been in an accident. Some sort of construction accident in the city. I’ve got to pick up Eva and go to the hospital.”

“Could I drive you and Eva into the city? Let me deal with the rush-hour traffic. I’d like to help.”

“Oh, that would please Eva. She suggested that someone drive us in. Thank you, Bob. Thank you very much.”

* * *

Bob, Joseph and Eva were surprised by the good time they made. Perhaps the frigid temperatures had kept people at home, or sent them scurrying to the warmth of a Metro North train car. Whatever the reason, the traffic kept moving and in thirty-five minutes, Bob Fong was driving into the circle in front of the hospital’s main entrance. He dropped off his passengers and left to search out a space in a nearby parking garage.

Eva and Joseph hurried through the revolving door of the lobby, fumbled to find their licenses to provide picture ID for the security guard and headed straight to the plump, middle-aged Hispanic woman at the information desk.

“We’re looking for information on our daughter,” Joseph said urgently. “Sarah Abadhi, A-B-A-D-H-I.” Spelling out “Abadhi” was a family tradition, since nine out of ten people couldn’t guess the correct spelling of the Hungarian surname.

“Abadhi. Let me see.” She scanned the computer screen in front of her. “Your daughter is in surgery.”

It was as though someone had run an electrical current through Eva’s body. “Surgery?” she asked. “What type of surgery?”

“I don’t have that information. I’m sorry. But they’ll be able to tell you more at the surgical waiting room on the second floor. The elevators are down the hall. Take any elevator to the surgical wing,” the woman said in a calm, friendly way.

“Should we wait for Bob?” Eva asked Joseph.

“No, he’ll figure it out. Let’s go.”

* * *

The surgical waiting room was large and bright, furnished with teak-framed armchairs and sofas. As Joseph and Eva hurried toward the information desk, they passed a host of distractions for the loved ones of those under the knife: several flat-screen televisions, coffee and tea carafes, Internet stations, local newspapers and stacks of magazines.

They introduced themselves to the older white gentleman manning the desk. “We’re the parents of Sarah Abadhi. We were told downstairs that she’s in surgery. Is that correct?” Joseph asked.

The man looked at his clipboard and seemed unable to find a match. Once again, Joseph spelled out the family name.

“Oh, Abadhi. I was looking under the Os. Sorry. Yes, she is in surgery with Dr. Gotbaum.”

Eva blurted out, “What kind of doctor is he?”

“Why, he’s an orthopedic surgeon, and a damn fine one, from what I hear,” the man responded cheerily. Looking further at his clipboard he added, “I see here that your daughter is being operated on for fractures of the right leg.”

Both Eva and Joseph breathed a sigh of relief. It was her leg, not her head, her spine or an essential organ that was injured. The fact that the man had high praise for the surgeon was a bonus.

Joseph asked, “Do you have any information on the baby? Our daughter was nearly due to deliver our grandchild.”

The man flipped to a previous page on the clipboard and then looked up with a smile. “Well, I see congratulations are in order. Your granddaughter was delivered by Dr. Hanna before Dr. Gotbaum began his surgery.”

Eva and Joseph didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. They embraced each other, fighting back tears. Finally, Eva asked, “Can we see our granddaughter?” It felt strange and thrilling to utter the words “our granddaughter.”

“Well, she’s been taken to the neonatal unit on the fifth floor. If you want to head over there, give me your cell number and I’ll let Dr. Gotbaum know when he’s out of surgery.”

“Oh, that would be wonderful. Thank you so much,” Eva said, amazed to be feeling joy mingled with her fright.

They jotted down their cell numbers and left for the neonatal unit. On the way, they ran into Bob as he emerged from the elevator.

“Sarah’s in surgery, Bob. And apparently, they delivered the baby already. I guess we’re grandparents,” Joseph said bashfully, looking at Eva and smiling.

Bob extended his hand to Joseph and kissed Eva on the cheek. “Congratulations to you both. Boy or girl?”

“It’s a little girl. That’s all we know. We’re on our way to the neonatal unit. Please, come,” Eva said. “We’re scared, we’re happy. We don’t know what we are. We could use someone who’s thinking straight. Bob, that will have to be you.”