Forever Young: Blessing or Curse (Always Young Trilogy) (33 page)

At
this point, she didn’t have a choice. Brushing aside her embarrassment at the
prospect of staying with Steve, she agreed to the plan.

“Where
are you now?”

”I’m
in Flagstaff, at Buffalo Park. He can meet me by the buffalo at the main
entrance. Since it’s a popular spot, I won’t stick out in the crowd.”

“Good.
He’ll fly to Phoenix, take a cab, get dropped off, and pay cash to rent a car.
Then he’ll buy something at a dealer and pick you up.”

“He’s
not buying a car because of me, is he?”

“Don’t
worry. He’s been kicking around the idea of getting a van, so this’ll give him
an excuse to break down.”

“But
his bank card, can’t someone trace it?”

“He’s
out of the radar for now. By the time someone thinks of him, the van will be
registered in Tomahawk. Also, he’ll be staying at his own house off and on. He
can do most transactions online and the rest in Tomahawk. Since you won’t be at
his house, no one should be the wiser.”

“Wow,
you’ve really thought this through.”

“Steve
deserves the credit. You know what a movie buff he is, and how he loves
figuring out espionage stuff. For him, this is elementary. All right then, I’ll
call him, and we’ll get this show on the road.”

“Wait,
a minute, if for any reason I’m not there, have him meet me at St. Adelbert
Church’s parking lot, a few miles from Buffalo Park.”

“Sure,
and I’ll give him your new number so he can reach you at your safe cell.”

 “Oh,
one more thing. Could you have him pick up a red wig? I haven’t tried that
color yet.”

Keith
chuckled. “Nor purple or blue.”

A
laugh escaped her as her mind flashed back to young Stephanie of the unique
fashion statement waiting outside the principal’s office.

“Glad
you still have a sense of humor,” Keith said.

“That’s
about all I have left.”

“Take
care, my friend, I’ll say a prayer for you.”

“Thanks,
I need it.”

***

After
their conversation, Dorrie made a visit to the rest room. Afterward, for fear
of being spotted, she barely glanced at the snow covered Ponderosa pines and
San Francisco Peaks in the background, as she retreated to her car. She
comforted herself with the thought of the many pine trees she’d see in Portage,
Wisconsin.

Other
vehicles came and went, parking in the spaces near her, and depositing their
smiling sightseers, some carrying skis and poles. Intent on enjoying
themselves, they shot passing glances in her direction before going about their
pleasures. She wished she could be as carefree.

To
kill time, she turned on the radio, but flicked it off fast after hearing a
bulletin about the ingrate on the lam. She didn’t need reminders of her
situation.

Embarrassment
filled her at the false reports propagated, depicting her as an evil, mean
person. Coupled with the first embarrassment was another. She’d rejected Steve
before, yet now  was forced to rely on his generosity.

If
he hadn’t volunteered his help, she’d never have imposed on him. Given their
past relationship, they were bound to feel awkward, especially in such close
confines. Sure, she’d seen him at a few gatherings, plus Larry’s and Mike’s
funerals, but they’d never been alone with each other for any length of time
since back when she’d turned him down. She still felt guilty about hurting him,
but had had no choice.

The
years had flown by and Steve remained single, like his brother. Hopefully, it
wasn’t her fault he’d not found love. Such a great guy deserved happiness.

A
sudden urge forced her mind off Steve. She must get to the rest room stat. As
she stumbled across the slippery path, the pressure built. As soon as she got
to the stall, a torrent of water gushed out.

No!
Not now!

CHAPTER FIFTY

Her
water bag had broken. How much time did she have?
Oh, sweet baby, you
couldn’t wait a little longer, could you? Dear God, now what should I do?

She
dare not try to deliver the baby herself. Her child deserved every opportunity
to come into the world whole, even if the mother ended up behind bars as a
result.

I’ve
got to think.

She
had a little cash, also an insurance card from the Institute. No, the card was
not an option. It might raise a red flag and lead the police or the gnome to
her. She better offer an assumed name and say she had no insurance or ID with
her, and only a little cash.

Dorrie
took out the five hundred she’d gotten from the ATM, then put her smartphone and
insurance card under the car seat. They were dead giveaways and no use to her
anyway. She’d take the debit and credit cards with for safekeeping, though
their use at this point would be dangerous.

She
remembered passing a hospital on the way to the park, so she’d head in that
direction. As she drove, more contractions hit. Afraid to drive straight to the
ER, where someone might spot her car, she parked half a block away. It wouldn’t
be easy to walk, but she’d manage. She had to.

Dorrie
switched off her phone, stepped from the Hyundai, and immediately doubled over.
She’d known labor would hurt, but not this bad. The contraction stopped, but
another came before she got much further. Clutching her abdomen, she inched
forward.

The
cold temperature didn’t stop the sweat from dripping into her eyes and down her
back. She trudged on, careful to keep her balance over the gathering snow
banks. Under normal circumstances, the half block trek wouldn’t take five
minutes, but instead it seemed a decade.

With
every step, the pain worsened. Would she make it there on time?

It
won’t be long, baby. Please wait.

The
sidewalk tilted. Her vision blurred. Fortunately, the letters of the Emergency
Room sign grew larger. Energized by the sight, she stumbled the remaining few
feet and swung at the revolving door. Warm air enveloped her, yet she shivered.

A
woman holding a bandaged arm next to her chest stood before the registration
window. She turned, and taking note of Dorrie’s condition, stepped back. “You
better go first.”

Dorrie
could barely whisper thanks before a horrific pain struck. Clutching her
stomach tightly, she lurched up to the window. “Please, help me, my baby’s
coming.”

The
woman looked up from behind the desk. “Do you have any insurance?”

“No,
but I have some cash. Please, I’ll pay you back.”

“Not
to fear. We’re prepared for such contingencies. Here are the forms. You’ll need
to fill them all out and sign them,” the woman said, shoving a clipboard, paper
and pen onto Dorrie’s side of the window.

Another
contraction hit Dorrie, harsher than before. How could she think at a time like
this? What name should she give? She had to put something down. No, she didn’t
have time.

“My
name’s Laurie DeLuca. The baby’s coming now. I’ll have to do the papers later,”
she gasped, doubling over.

The
woman from in back of Dorrie yelled, “My Lord, can’t you see what’s happening?
What are you waiting for? Help this lady right now before she loses her baby
and sues you for negligence.”

A
wheelchair magically appeared. An orderly hoisted Dorrie upon it and whisked
her down the hall to an operating room. The moment she’d both hoped for and
dreaded had arrived, but she had no energy to be afraid. She only wanted it
over.  

In
the operating room, someone moaned loudly. Was that her? Apparently so, because
the man in blue scrubs bent over her and said, “Sorry, but it’s too late for an
epidural. Hang in there. It’ll be over soon.”

He
turned to a nearby nurse. “Hand me the scissors. She needs a mediolateral
incision before she tears.”

Dorrie
gasped as cold steel cut into the sensitive area.

 “Okay,
Miss, now push down as hard as you can. Again, and harder. You can do it. It
won’t be long now,” the doctor said.

Tears
flowed down Dorrie’s cheeks as the excruciating pain heightened.

“You’re
doing great, Laurie. Don’t give up. Come on, push more. Any minute and you’ll
be done. The baby’s already crowning and I can see the head. You’re almost
there. Come on, one more push. Make it big.”

With
her last ounce of strength, Dorrie bore down. Tremendous pain engulfed her, as
she felt a huge wet mass slide from inside of her and onto the table, along
with a gush of goo. A tiny wail followed.

It
took a moment for the sound to register. When it did, her heart tripped. My
God, she’d done it. She’d given birth. Tears of relief flowed down her face,
followed by shivers, as the full implications of the moment hit. Was her baby
okay? If not, would the hospital provide care?

CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

Everything
happened in a blur. The umbilical cord was cut, the baby taken away, Dorrie was
cleaned and the table wiped down. An African-American nurse gave Dorrie a sweet
smile and placed a warm blanket over her. “There you go. Now hang on. We’re
going for a little ride.”

The
surgical table with Dorrie atop it traveled down a bright corridor to a huge
elevator, which stopped three floors up. Sounds of infants bawling clued her in
on where she’d landed, even before she saw the Maternity Ward sign.

“Lots
of babies being born lately, but you’re in luck. There’s one small room empty.
The best thing about it is it’s private,” the nurse said, wheeling Dorrie into
a room down the hall, a few doors from the exit sign. A slight boned, Hispanic
sounding nurse joined them there and helped the first nurse transfer Dorrie
onto the hospital bed. That done, the emergency room nurse left.

Before
Dorrie could get her bearings, the Maternity Ward nurse said, “This might hurt,
but in the long run it will do you good. I need to massage your uterus to get
you back into shape and prevent hemorrhaging.”

Dorrie
stifled a scream as the woman bore down on her, pressing into the already
tender area. For such a small person, she owned a strong grip. After concluding
the torture, the nurse checked Dorrie’s vital signs, brought a pitcher of water
and left.

Unfortunately,
the nurse returned to inflict more massaging pain, making the pressure grow in
Dorrie’s bladder. “Please, can I go to the bathroom?”

“Wouldn’t
you rather have a bedpan?”

“No.
Please, I’d like to walk.”

The
nurse skeptically nodded, but helped Dorrie up.

Oh
my, God. Dorrie had thought she’d felt bad before, but as she limped along
leaning on the nurse’s arm, pain of the worst kind hit her. Not only that, a
gush of blood filled her pad and trickled down her leg.

“I’m
afraid I’m leaking.”

“Not
to worry. It happens all the time. We’ll get you cleaned up afterward,” the
nurse assured her.  

After
Dorrie had accomplished her mission, the nurse left her in peace, which again
proved to be shortlived. More hideous massaging continued. She tried to catch
her breath, while her head swam. How much more could she handle? And where was
the baby? Should it be taking this long?

She
had to find out how her child was, even if the answer sent her over the edge.

After
the next massage, she asked, “Please, how is my baby doing?”

“We
should know pretty soon. It usually takes an hour or so to complete the tests.
”

It
seemed forever before the nurse finally appeared, this time smiling and holding
a pink swathed bundle. “Here you are, my dear, and congratulations. You’ve
given birth to a darling little girl with all ten fingers, ten toes and a cute
little tuff of lovely blond hair. The doctor says the preliminary tests look
normal, in fact better than average. Others will follow later. Have you decided
on a name for her, or is it too soon?”

“Juliana
Marie, uh, DeLuca.” That was close. She’d almost said Donato.

“Lovely
name for a lovely little girl. Here, let me hand her to you. Now, be sure to
hold her head and neck just so.”

Dorrie
listened intently and followed instructions on how to support the baby’s head
while holding her.

Through
the pain and exhaustion, she couldn’t help but look down and smile at her
bawling red-faced infant. “It’s all right, honey. Mommy’s here.”

The
baby stopped crying, as if sensing her mother held her. In this special moment,
Dorrie’s heart swelled with love. She couldn’t believe this was her daughter.
She ignored a tiny voice inside of her saying she shouldn’t be happy because
the father wasn’t Larry. Her baby was an innocent who couldn’t help who’d
fathered her.

The
nurse asked, “Did you want to room-in with the baby, or send her to the nursery
so you can get some rest?”