High Hurdles Collection Two (81 page)

Chapter • 3

“I brought your school books,” Mom said a week later.

DJ groaned and shook her head, trying to match her mother's smile but failing miserably. “How can I do schoolwork when I sleep all the time from the pain medication?” Lindy had been there only a few minutes and already DJ wished for Gran. Schoolwork was the last thing on DJ's mind.

Lindy Crowder eased her pregnant bulk down into the chair and sighed. “I know it will be hard, but maybe if you have something to concentrate on, the time will go faster. Besides, you've already missed two weeks of school—we can't let you get any further behind.”

“I guess.” DJ blinked and blinked again. If she could rub her eyes, that might get some clearness back into them. “At least I don't have algebra this year.”

“You could take geometry, you know.” The arch of her mother's eyebrows said she was teasing. DJ hated math like cats hated baths.

“You look so nice,” DJ said. As usual, her mother's hair swung back into smooth sheets at the turn of her head. And though she wore a maternity sundress, she wore it with her normal flair, bright red-and-yellow dangly earrings, bracelets, and low espadrille shoes in the same yellow tone. Her face had rounded out a bit, but she had been careful about her weight and looked like she was carrying only a soccer ball under her dress.

“Mom, next to you, I feel creepy-cruddy.”

“Darla Jean, what a thing to say. I'm fat as a hippo.”

“Yeah, right.” DJ didn't know much about pregnant women, but her mother surely didn't resemble any hippo she'd ever seen.

“Your hair is coming back. Every time I see you it's longer.”

“You mean now I look like I have a crew cut instead of a shave?”

“Something like that—almost. I could bring you a perky bow and tape it to the top, like I did when you were a baby.”

“Thanks, but no thanks. At least it doesn't itch so much.” DJ eyed the stack of books on her bedside table. “How am I supposed to read those when I can't even turn the pages?”

“Joni Eareckson Tada turns her pages with a pencil or something held in her mouth. We can prop the book on this.” Lindy swung the bed table over and opened the tray, setting the book in place. The book snapped closed. “Hmm. There's gotta be a way around this.” She handed DJ an unsharpened pencil. “You use the eraser end to turn the pages.”

“Have you tried this?”

“No, but maybe I should have. Guess I'll ask the nurses if they have any suggestions. In the meantime, when any of us come to visit, we can take turns reading to you. See, here in the notebook is your list of assignments according to class.”

“How are the Bs?”

“Good. They think first grade is a lark. Not being able to tell them apart is driving their teacher nuts. You want a drink?”

“Yes, please, and a Popsicle.”

Lindy pushed herself up by using the arms of the chair. “Whew! How come everything seems so far down?” She started for the door, then turned. “But after that we do history.”

“How about lit instead?”

“Whatever.”

But before she returned, DJ had dozed off again. She woke to see her mother tapping away at her laptop computer, the Popsicle melted in a dish on the bed table.

“Sorry.” Her croak sounded more like a toad than a girl.

“No problem. Mother warned me how often this happens. At least when you're sleeping you don't hurt, and that's most important.” Lindy held the glass of ice water for DJ to drink from the straw and motioned to the yellow Popsicle liquid. “I could spoon that for you.”

“ 'Kay. But I gotta go to the bathroom first. Call the nurse.” She nodded to the push buttons on the bed rail.

“Can't I help you?”

“I guess, but …”

“Darla Jean, I'm your mother. And just because I'm pregnant doesn't mean I'm a weakling, you know.”

“Sorry.” DJ did her sideways-moving crab imitation to the edge of the bed and swung her feet over the side while at the same time rolling up into a full sitting position.

“Hey, you're getting pretty good at that. Now, what do you want me to do?”

“Hang on to me so that I don't slip when I stand, and then we walk together. I don't get dizzy so often now, but sometimes the room turns into a carousel.” By the time they got DJ back into bed, both of them were giggling over Lindy's belly being in the way.

“Hey, did we tell you that we think this muffin in here is probably a girl?” Lindy patted her bulge with one hand and held DJ's water glass with the other. “She finally turned right so the sonogram could tell. How about helping me with names for your new sister?”

“Wow. That is totally awesome.”

“I even have pictures.” Lindy whipped out a folder with a shadowy form in a black-and-white picture. “See, there's her head, hands, and feet. Isn't she beautiful?”

DJ raised what eyebrows she had grown back. “Beautiful? Mo-ther!”

“Well, I guess beauty is in the eye of the beholder. But I got to watch her moving around, and, DJ, she even put her thumb in her mouth. Can you believe that?” Lindy's eyes glimmered through the sheen of tears. “I've been thinking of calling her Grace because she is such a wonderful gift.”

“Grace.” DJ tried it out. “Kinda old-fashioned, isn't it?”

“I know. Maybe that could be her middle name. So help me think of something. Robert wants to call her Amelia, after his mother.”

“Then she'd be Amelia Grace.” DJ shook her head. “Not quite right.” But much as she tried, no good ideas came. In fact, one of the scary things was that her mind didn't seem to be working. All DJ wanted to do was sleep.

“A sister. I'm going to have a baby sister.” Seeing the picture and thinking about names made this baby, which had seemed so far off, a pretty-soon reality.

“Something to think about, isn't it?” Lindy flinched. “Oof, she's going to be a soccer star for sure.” She laid her hand on the side where even DJ could see the baby kick, moving her mother's sundress.

“Wow! Doesn't that hurt?”

“Let me tell you.” Lindy sucked in a deep breath and let it all out. “And to think I have more than three months to go.”

DJ shifted in the bed, rolling over so she could see her mother better. “Have the Bs been riding?”

“Every day. They're working on a surprise for you, but I promised I wouldn't tell.”

“Mother, that's mean.”

“Just another good reason to get you out of here as soon as possible. We all miss you so terribly. Home just isn't the same without you there.” Lindy blinked several times. “I find Queenie up in your room every once in a while, lying there by your bed waiting for you.”

DJ could feel tears at the back of her eyes. They'd found Queenie, a black-and-white mixed breed, at the Humane Society, and she had taken over as if she'd lived with them all her life.

“So no more procrastinating. You want U.S. history or lit? According to the schedule your teacher sent, you have a book report due in two weeks. I asked her if you could use an audio tape instead, and she agreed, so you need to choose a book. Here's the list of audios available. It has to be one of the classics.”

“Yuck.”

“I thought you might like
Tom Sawyer
. I remember loving that book when I was your age.”

DJ shrugged. “I guess. Couldn't I watch the movie instead?”

“Book report equals reading … or at least listening. If that's the one you'd like, I'll bring it and a tape recorder with me day after tomorrow.”

DJ thought a moment.
How will I keep track of the story? I can hardly keep track of my own name
. “How will I turn the thing on and off?”

“Your handy-dandy mouth tool.” Lindy waved the pencil, then looked at it. “Hmm, needs to be something longer than that. I'll let Robert devise us something.” She laid a hand on her daughter's shoulder. “We can make it work, Deej. I know it's really hard for you, but we'll all help. Bobby said he had to learn to read real quick so he could help you with your homework. And Billy said he'd learn faster. You won't be here in the hospital forever.”

“Even though it seems like it, huh?”

“Even though.”

The evening nurse squeaked her way into the room and up to the side of the bed. “How about taking a walk down the hall, kiddo? Stretch those legs a bit.”

DJ glanced up at the IV bag. “With that?”

“Sure. I'll push it for you.”

“Really?” DJ twitched her nose. The nose prongs for oxygen had begun to seem like part of her body. The doctor said she needed the oxygen because her lungs were still healing from all the smoke damage.

“But you won't be lifting weights or running any races, promise?” The nurse, a middle-aged black woman, looked over her half glasses, trying to look stern. “From what I hear about you, you'd bring your horse right in here, too.”

“Oh, could we?”

Thela, as she'd introduced herself, rolled her eyes and began disconnecting the oxygen line. “What a girl.” Together, Thela and DJ maneuvered into the hallway with the IV stand, Lindy close behind.

Though DJ had been managing the trek to the bathroom, which was right across the room, by the time she reached the corner of the hall and looked back, her room looked a mile away and her legs and chest were doing a wobbly dance.

“C-can I sit down?”

“Of course, child. Should never have brought you this far.” Thela snagged a wheelchair that sat along the wall and set the brakes. “Now, I'm not going to take you back in this, but …”

DJ sat down quickly and closed her eyes. The hall, too, had taken to dancing, up and down and in circles.

“Let me rephrase that.” Thela flipped the footrests into position. “Since you are riding back in the wheelchair, you can keep your eyes closed. Do you need to put your head down? You're not going to faint or throw up, are you?”

“No.” The word came out in a whisper. At least she wouldn't if she kept her eyes closed—she hoped. How embarrassing. Her mother's cool hand felt good on the back of her neck.

As soon as she was tucked back in bed and hooked up again, DJ made her lips smile whether they wanted to or not. “Thanks for the ride.”

“You're welcome, sweet thing. We sure do have to get you built back up.”

“So I can go home.”

“Right. Let me listen here.” Thela applied the stethoscope to DJ's chest. “Take a deep breath.”

DJ did as asked and a cough exploded. When she could quit hacking, she lay back, limp as Herndon's used leg wrappings.

Thela rubbed her ear. “Serves me right. I asked for that.”

DJ nodded to the water pitcher. “Mom, could I have a drink, please?”

“Sure.” Lindy filled the plastic glass. Her eyes shot question marks at the nurse, who studied her patient.

“Need some pain meds?”

DJ nodded. Now not only did her hands hurt, but her chest did again, too. And the cough had started a headache. In fact, if she thought about it, which she tried not to do, she hurt about everywhere a person could hurt.

Not long after Thela injected the medication into the IV, DJ began to feel like she was floating again, as if she would bounce off the ceiling pretty soon.

“Better?”

DJ nodded and turned her head to look at her mother. “You better get going.”

“No hurry.” Lindy held the glass again so DJ could drink. “I'm beginning to think we ought to get you a tube so you can suck water at your own speed.” Her mother's voice came from a long distance away.

“Umm …”

“I love you, Darla Jean Randall.”

“Me too. Night, Mom.”

“Oh, one more thing. There might be a surprise for you tomorrow.”

“Really?” DJ's eyes popped open. “What?”

“Ah, I won't tell.” Lindy kissed her on the cheek.

“Oh, my goodness.” Karen turned from looking out the window. “DJ, you won't believe this.”

“Okay, what's up?” DJ had finished her breakfast with many interruptions. Karen would stop feeding her to keep glancing out the window.

“Nothing, nothing at all.” But the glint in her eyes said something different.

“What's going on?”