Broken Wings (25 page)

Carol became alarmed when she saw Pamela quickly turn a pale shade of gray. “All right, enough of this,” she ordered as she helped Pamela to her feet. “I’m putting you to bed,” she insisted as she pulled Pamela to a standing position and wrapped an arm about her waist. “And then I am calling Dr. Derbois,” she added with a scowl.

“I’m not going to bother my rheumatologist with the flu,” Pamela protested as she let Carol help her up the porch steps.

“You’ve been doing too much around here with all these renovations and taking in new animals. I know when you are getting run down, and trust me, you look run down,” Carol said, practically carrying Pamela in through the front door. “I can sleep in the guest room for a few nights, until you are better,” she asserted, placing Pamela on the couch.

“What about your job?”

“I can work out of here for a day or two. All I need is my laptop and phone line to handle my accounts.”

“And Ian?” Pamela worriedly asked.

“He can come over and see me here just as easily as he can see me at my place,” she replied, shrugging. “Besides, Ian likes it here. He likes playing with all of the babies.”

Carol fussed around Pamela as she pushed pillows behind her head and covered her with a blanket. And as Pamela half-listened to Carol’s worried clucking, she thought of another man who had also loved playing with the baby animals. And within minutes, the pain that had been plaguing her joints all day disappeared, only to be replaced by a more uncomfortable ache deep inside of Pamela’s heart.

*  *  *  *

Two days later, Pamela was driving her old white Ford pick-up into New Orleans to meet with her doctor. The pains in her body had not eased and the nausea would come and go. Fearing something worse than her usual discomforts, Carol had called Pamela’s doctor to ask for an immediate appointment. Pamela had refused at first to go, but Carol had been very insistent.

“What if it is your kidneys again?” Carol had questioned the day before. “You felt nauseous and achy then, too. You know Dr. Derbois told you to call him the moment those symptoms returned. He said you cannot afford to take any more chances with your kidneys or you will end up on dialysis.”

Pamela had waved off Carol’s concerns. “It wasn’t that bad. I had some problems with my kidney function but after a few weeks of medicine, everything was fine. I’m sure that’s all there is to this.”

“Just go and see the man,” Carol had demanded. “Please do it for me.”

And that was why Pamela was driving the sixty miles to Touro Infirmary in uptown New Orleans. She loved Carol and did not want to see her worry. She also secretly wanted Carol out of her house. She thought it funny that she could share her home with so many animals and not feel the slightest bit of intrusion, but have one close friend move in and it was as if she were living in a college dorm again.

Dr. Martin Derbois’ office was located across the street from Touro Infirmary and he had been Pamela’s physician for several years. As she waited in the austere exam room for Dr. Derbois, Pamela felt that uneasy sense of dread most people feel when visiting a doctor’s office. There were always other places people would prefer to be, but as her good friend and former EMT partner, Scott Corbin, had always told her, the human body does not come with any warranties, so regular maintenance is mandatory.

“Hello, Pamela,” Dr. Derbois said as he walked into the exam room, carrying Pamela’s thick chart.

He was a slender man with a receding head of gray hair, thick glasses, and small brown eyes. He was dressed in a simple pair of slacks, dress shirt, and tie. Never one to wear white coats, Pamela always thought the man looked more like someone who should be teaching schoolchildren rather than a physician. He took a seat on the chair in front of the exam table and gazed up into Pamela’s face.

“So what’s going on?” he asked in a mild-mannered tone.

Pamela began a short description of her symptoms and added a brief discussion about the stress of the renovations going on around her facility. She had made a mental note earlier to skip any reference to Daniel. She figured the stress of Daniel’s hasty departure was probably better suited to a discussion with a psychiatrist rather than her rheumatologist.

“Well,” Dr. Derbois began after reviewing all of her symptoms. “Let’s get some blood work and a urine test and see what we find.” He examined her face. “You do look pale and may be anemic, as well. That could be causing some of your fatigue and dizziness, and it is pretty common with lupus. Any fever, night sweats, or chills?”

Pamela shook her head. “Just the weakness and nausea.”

“Back pain or pain with urination?” he questioned.

Pamela shook her head again. “No, not this time. I had the back pain last time when my kidneys bothered me, but I haven’t noticed anything other than the usual aches and pains.”

Dr. Derbois stood up and felt the lymph nodes in her neck, checked her throat, and listened to her heart. He then tapped on her back looking for tenderness near her kidneys, but Pamela reported no pain with his examination. He sat down in his chair, picked up her chart again, and made some more notes.

“And when was your last period?” he inquired.

Suddenly an unexpected dread grabbed at Pamela’s insides. “What does that have to do with anything? This is my kidneys right?”

Dr. Derbois gave a nonchalant nod of his head. “With your history I would suspect so, but I just want to cover all of my bases. Do you remember when you had your last period?”

Pamela remembered perfectly. “March 5th,” she said doing the math in her head.

“You’re four weeks late,” Dr. Derbois said. “Is there a reason to suspect this may be something other than your kidneys, Pamela?” He asked with a hint of concern.

Pamela’s heart started bounding in her chest. She had never considered that possibility. “There was only this one time. But it can’t be that,” she argued as she raised her eyebrows.

“You and I both know it only takes one time, Pamela. I’ll just go ahead and add a pregnancy test to your lab work to make sure that is not what we are dealing with.” He paused and gave her a worried glance. “But if you are pregnant, you’re going to have to figure out some options here.”

“Options?”

“Pamela, you have lupus and that immediately puts you into a high-risk category as far as pregnancy is concerned. You are forty-one and have compromised kidneys. Your body would be very stressed if you were to carry a child to term. I’m not an obstetrician, and if you are pregnant, we’re going to have to get you in to see a physician who deals with high-risk pregnancies very soon.” He paused and frowned slightly. “That is if you would want to keep it?”

Pamela’s jaw fell. Her body slumped forward on the exam table. “I haven’t considered being pregnant, much less whether or not I would have an abortion,” she said as shook her head. “I don’t put animals to sleep, Dr. Derbois, so I cannot even fathom doing that to a child.”

He nodded his head slightly. “Then you need to be aware there are significant risks with someone with your history. You could miscarry, or you could deliver a premature baby, or even a sick child who would need to stay for an extended period in a neo natal intensive care unit. Then there are the problems you may encounter because of your pregnancy. You may need help with household chores, activities of daily living, and caring for your animal sanctuary. And after the baby is born, you may still not be well enough to care for your infant. Women with lupus do deliver healthy children, but your body has been through a great deal, Pamela, and a pregnancy may just push it over the edge.”

Pamela felt her world suddenly shrinking around her. A baby? How would she manage her facility and a child?

“I’d like to go ahead and put a rush on that pregnancy test so we can either rule it out or begin to deal with it right away,” he told her as he patted her knee. “Why don’t you go upstairs to the lab and get your blood work done. Then go get a bite to eat, and come back to see me in about two hours. I‘ll have the results back by then.”

*  *  *  *

Three hours later, Pamela was in an elevator climbing to the twentieth floor of the P&L building. As her head swarmed with scenario after scenario presented by her physician, Pamela knew the rest of her life had been irrevocably changed. She realized she could not have this child on her own; she needed help. And there was only one person she could turn to.

“I’d like to see Robert Patrick, please,” Pamela said to a very young, redheaded girl seated behind the desk in Bob’s reception area.

“Your name please, hon?” the girl asked in a thick New Orleans accent.

“Tell him Pamela is here,” she said, trying to control her anxious voice.

“Ya’ gotta’ last name, sweetheart?”

“Just tell him Pamela. He’s expecting me.”

Less than two minutes later, Bob appeared, bounding through the main doors that led to the attorney’s private offices. He looked Pamela over and his face filled with apprehension. “What is it?” he asked.

She walked up to his side. “We need to talk,” she calmly stated.

Bob turned back to the girl at the front desk. “Maureen, tell Edna to hold all of my calls,” he directed and placed his arm about Pamela’s waist.

He walked her through the main doors and down the hall to his expansive office. Once Pamela stepped into the room she felt a fleck of disappointment that the lovely shades of yellow and white she had painstakingly decorated his office in had been replaced by bold brown and taupe tones. She took in the pictures and assorted comic book memorabilia on the walls. An avid collector of comic books since his grade school days, Bob had mounted and framed many of his prized pieces for display in his office. The plain square walnut desk and dark brown chairs standing in front of it sharply contrasted with the colorful comic books hanging on the walls. It reminded Pamela of Bob in a way, a cold businessman on the outside and a selfish child on the inside.

Bob saw her taking in the décor as he shut the door behind them. “Clarissa redecorated my office soon after we got married,” he explained as he waved his hand about the large room. “The comic books I just recently added to get rid of her paintings of horses. She has a thing for horses. Even had them painted all over the walls of our dining room.” He walked across the room to her side. “I felt like I was in a bad Western movie every time we had to eat in that room.” He took her hand. “Jesus, you’re shaking,” he whispered as he looked into her face. “What is it, Pamela?” he asked.

Pamela swallowed her pride and raised her head to him. “Does your offer still stand?” she inquired in a firm tone.

Bob gave a slow, victorious smile. “Now you want my help,” he mused as he left her side and went over to his desk. He stopped and rested his hip against the dark wood. “Yes, my offers still stands,” he answered as he folded his arms over his chest. “Marry me and I will take care of your little sanctuary forever. I will let you live your life as long as you let me live mine. We will be seen at parties together and will present a happy home front. I need a wife who is intelligent and can improve my social standing. I have political aspirations and Clarissa was a bit of a liability.”

Pamela nodded. “All right. But there is one other thing.”

Bob clapped his hands triumphantly. “Whatever you want, it’s yours.”

“I’m pregnant. It’s Daniel’s and I have no intention of getting rid of it.” She watched as Bob’s smile fell. “I want to know that if anything happens to me that you will raise this child and give it everything it deserves.”

“Jesus Christ, Pamela!” Bob shouted, standing from his desk. “You were warned by all those doctors in Dallas about getting pregnant when you were first diagnosed. They told us it could be dangerous.”

“I didn’t plan this, Bob. But now that I’m faced with the prospect of a child I will have to make some compromises. This child will need a father and I want your word that you will raise it as your own.”

Bob reflected for a moment. “And what about the biological father? Are you going to tell him?”

“Daniel left and I don’t know where he has gone. He obviously doesn’t want me to find him and I will abide by his wishes. If you agree, I will tell everyone the child is yours.”

“I never wanted a kid, Pamela, but now that I’m considering running for office, a kid might just be the thing I need to look like a legitimate family man to voters. And it would help to convince all the gossips out there that our marriage is legit. We got back together because of your impending delivery.” He clapped his hands. “This actually might turn out better than I had hoped,” he happily confessed.

Pamela stood as stiff as a board in front of him. Her life was crumbling around her and there was nothing she could do to save it. She fought to keep the tears from her eyes. She could never let Bob see how much this was ripping her apart.

“You know you won’t be able to take care of the wildlife while pregnant,” Bob told her.

She gave a curt nod of her head. “Dr. Derbois has already informed me of that. If you agree, I’ll need money to hire someone to oversee the place, at least until after the baby comes,” she stated, trying not to let her voice sound strained by her emotions.

“I’ll foot the bill for whatever you need,” he agreed as he walked over to her side. “In the meantime, get things settled at the facility, and then you’ll have to come and live with me. I’ll get you an engagement ring before you move in to make it look good.”