Saturday Morning (31 page)

She looked around the kitchen. She hated to leave her project half done, but she wanted to put Martin on notice that she wasn’t going
to stick around if he wasn’t. Too bad Fluffy had to suffer in the bargain, but she was sure she would be able to find a boarding facility that would take him.

A half hour later the only evidence of her day’s painting was the smell and the missing cabinet doors. She went downstairs to the spare room that she’d halfheartedly set up as her office. One thing about San Francisco that she did like was that she could pick up the phone and order anything. She could even have it delivered. Yesterday morning she’d called a computer store, asked a few questions, given them her credit card number, and a few hours later, a computer tech was at her door with a new laptop and a portable-size printer. Within a couple of hours, everything she needed was installed, and she was ready to go.

She sat down at her makeshift desk, an old vanity table that had been in Morgan’s room, and booked a midmorning flight. Then she did a search for boarding facilities and found one just a few blocks away called the Pampered Pet. Pick up and delivery, the ad said.

Next, she accessed her e-mail. Her in-box was suffering overload. “Sheesh, I only skipped one week.” She glanced at the dates on the messages. Fluffy hopped up on the desk, and after sniffing her chin, he curled up next to the keyboard in the pool of light from the gooseneck lamp. He liked the heat from the lamp, just like Chai Lai.

Andy clicked on the latest from Bria, tided in caps, the equivalent of shouting online.

Fluffy opened his eyes and made a gargling sound.

she typed, She glanced at Fluffy and thought Bria would enjoy hearing all about him. She hoped she could do justice to Martin’s reaction to Fluffy. If only she were a writer! She ended the lengthy e-mail by giving her a blow-by-blow of J House, the tea/coffee she’d attended, and Hope’s baby. she wrote, then stared at what she’d written in shock. Where had that come from? She started to delete the line, but something told her not to. What would it hurt to give a few hours of her time when she was in town and Martin was at work? They could use her. Maybe she could be instrumental in finding a corporate sponsor to retrofit J House. She could pick Martin’s brain for ideas, that is, when they were talking again.

she typed.

Andy clicked Save Draft, Send, and then opened the message again, made changes so that it would be personal to Camden, and then repeated the process one more time for Morgan. If she’d blind-copied the other two, they would have been offended. Ah, the games a mother must play, on e-mail, no less.

She sent business messages into the files designated for them and ignored the rest of the messages, promising herself more time online when she got home. She clicked off before any of her children could respond. She had a lot to do to get ready and didn’t want to answer a bunch of family questions.

Martin still hadn’t come home by bedtime, and her eyes were no longer focusing on the book she was reading. She closed the book with a snap, set it on the table next to the bed, and turned out the light. “Good night, Fluffy.” She heard the cat purring from his bed on the floor.

Martin arrived home sometime after midnight, packed, and climbed into bed. He was up at five, and while she might have enjoyed another hour’s sleep, she decided to give him a wifely send-off by fixing him a nice breakfast.

He looked tired, but who wouldn’t be with only four hours’ sleep? She couldn’t imagine that he really enjoyed traveling from city to city. He’d told her in the past that he never saw anything besides the airport, the hotel, the coffee shop, and the office. He read his reports in the cab on the way to wherever he was going, and it was dark by the time he got back to the hotel.

Years ago Andy had struggled with the fear that her husband might be unfaithful and that was the reason for all his traveling, but there had never been any hint or sign of impropriety on his part. His mistress was his work, and how could she ever fight against that?

Andy stared out at the Bay when she’d finished the dishes. The rising sun kissed the spires of the Golden Gate Bridge, tinting them gold. Another beautiful day on the Bay. She was sorry to miss it. It was raining in Medford, according to her weather check.

She looked up at the clock, and at the same time a horn beeped. “There’s your cab,” she said.

Martin took a last sip of coffee, got up, and bussed her lightly on the lips. “I’m sorry. I really am. I love you, Andy.”

She smiled and kissed him back. “I love you too. Have a safe trip.” She followed him to the door. “Fluffy is going to the Pampered Pet. I’ll leave you the number to call when you get back. They’ll deliver him.” The phone rang behind her. She waved him off and went back to the kitchen.

“Hi Andy, this is Clarice.”

“Hi, how are you? You sound stuffed up.”

“Roger just took Hope to the hospital in an ambulance.” Clarice sniffed again.

Oh, dear God, help. Do you think she’ll be all right? What can I do?”

“Other than pray, nothing at the moment.” Clarice blew her nose. “Pardon me.” Her voice wore the sheen of tears. “She was bleeding pretty heavy.”

“Are you going to the hospital?”

“No, I’m needed here.”

“I’ll be there in an hour. Maybe I can do something to help you.” Andy hung up, closed her eyes, and prayed harder than she had ever prayed in her life. Then she called and cancelled Fluffy’s pickup and her flight.
Lord, save that baby, please, please.

“Hang in there, honey.” Roger gripped her hand. The paramedics had tried to keep him from riding in the ambulance, but he’d forced his way in.

“The baby—I don’t want to lose the baby.”

“I know.” His eyes told her he was scared too.

Hope felt his tears wet her hand. An IV drip had been started, and a blood pressure cuff squeezed her arm.

“You’re going to be all right.” The young female EMT smiled at her with reassuring calm.

“It’s the baby I’m worried about,” Hope said back to her.

“How far along are you?”

“The sonogram showed about three months.”

“And that was when?”

“Just last week.”

“Are you in any pain?”

“No. The cramping has stopped.” She clung to her husband’s hand. “Does that mean the baby is gone?”

“No, not necessarily.”

Hope covered her abdomen with her free hand. “Please, baby, want to live.” The siren bleeped as they pulled to a stop. Hope could see the emergency signs out the window.

“Okay now, we’re going to take you in,” the EMT said. “Mr. Benson, you can carry the IV bag. Keep it a couple feet or so above her.”

The doors swung open, and away they went. Hope saw doorways, walls, and the ceiling whiz by; the wheels of the gurney clattered; and Roger kept reminding her to hang in there.

It’s not me I’m worried about Please, God, please.

They stopped. “I’m sorry, but you can’t go any farther.” The woman’s sharp voice penetrated the fog Hope floated in.

Roger didn’t argue. Hope looked up to see him hand over the IV bag, and then he bent over her.

“I love you, Hope Benson. You are more important to me than anyone or anything on this earth.” He kissed her quickly, and then the gurney whipped through the open doors.

She must have answered questions, but later she didn’t remember what they’d been. The next time she came fully awake, she was in a regular hospital room, and Roger was sitting in a chair beside the bed, holding her hand.

“Hey there,” he said softly as if they were in church.

“The baby?” she asked, her anxiousness making her sound almost breathless.

He beamed at her, his laugh lines deepening to furrows. “He or she is doing just fine. It must be a tough little kid to cling so hard to life. I think the doctors were surprised too.”

Hope let out a long sigh, and tears welled in her eyes. She had never been so scared in all her life. “Thank You, Jesus,” she said, looking up at the ceiling. “Thank You for answering my prayer.” She moved her gaze to the right and saw both an IV and a bag of plasma hanging on the pole. “I lost a lot of blood?”

“Not as much as you’d think, but they didn’t want to take any chances.”

“So when can I go home?”

“When they say so,” he said, his expression telling her that this time she wasn’t the one in charge. “For now, you’re going to stay flat on your back.”

Only then did she realize she didn’t have a pillow. She’d heard of this kind of situation before, when a woman in jeopardy of losing a baby spent weeks, sometimes months in bed, flat on her back. “How long?” she asked, thinking about all the things she had to do, things that wouldn’t get done if she didn’t do them.

“I don’t know, and neither do they. I guess it all depends on what your body does and what that little one needs.”

“Worst case?”

“Until the baby is term. Every day in utero after six months is a gift to that child.”

“I see.” Hope took a breath, then let it out slowly. After the third time, she still felt like she couldn’t get enough air.
Deep breaths, don’t hyperventilate: Oh, Lord, this will not be easy.
She who rarely sat still. “How will we manage?”

Roger smiled at her. “God knows what’s going on. He’s not going to leave us to wander this alone. Where’s your faith, Pastor Benson?”

“I guess it slipped a notch, but it’s back in place now.” She smiled back at him. “Maybe we could call on the Girl Squad?” For some reason, she already felt closer to those three women than to other women she’d known for years.

“If it is the worse case, maybe we can move a couch or daybed or something into your office. That way you won’t worry yourself into a frazzle wondering what’s going on out in the main rooms. We can get you a bell, and you can ring it whenever you need something.” He started to laugh.

“Funny. Very funny.” But in truth, she was glad for his humor.

A knock on the door caught their attention, and Roger called, “Come in.”

Clarice peeked around the door. “The nurse said you could have visitors.”

Roger waved her in. “How’d you get here?” He stood to let her have his chair.

“I brought her.” Andy came in right behind. “And let me tell you, we had us quite a little adventure. I need to learn the streets of this city. We accidentally turned on a one-way street and almost got clobbered by a streetcar.” She stopped at the foot of the bed and swapped a look with Clarice.

“The baby is fine,” Hope said, knowing they were trying not to act worried. “Thanks be to God.”

“Yes, thank You, God.” Andy moved to the side of the bed and stroked Hope’s tube-cluttered arm. “I was getting ready to fly back to Medford this morning, but when Clarice called … Anyway, I rushed over to J House and saw that Celia had everything under control, so we came here. Celia sends her love, by the way. She said to tell you”—she glanced at Roger—”that you don’t have your cell phone on, or you forgot it.”

He grabbed the phone off his belt. “The battery is dead.”

Hope shook her head. “Not that you could have had it on in here anyway. But … ”

“Well, no one reminded me to plug it in. A guy can’t remember everything.”

Hope rolled her eyes.

A nurse strolled into the room. “Okay, everybody. Vamoose! I gotta check this woman.”

“But I’m her husband.”

The nurse waved them all away like a flock of chickens. “I don’t care if you’re Antonio Banderas. Out! I won’t be long, and then you can all come back.”

Hope mimicked the nurse’s gesture with her free hand, her grin
reminding him to just do as he was told. Not that he’d ever been very good at that.