Love Life & Circumstance (3 page)

All of the information marched around in his mind bumping up against the worry. He’d passed the wreck. Carrie’s SUV was totalled; the engine block shoved into the front seat. He shoved the vision away and locked his gaze on the small window in the door. He watched the scene across the hall unfold stoically. The man inside had to be a relative of the occupant of the other vehicle, an older man or so the rumors maintained. He was obviously well known by the staff. He was a victim of a drunk driver who happened to be Seth’s sister. Guilt weighed heavy on his shoulders. Why hadn’t he intervened sooner? He knew Beth was in trouble.

His thoughts were interrupted by the door across the hall swinging open. The other man emerged, utter desolation on his pale, but ruggedly handsome face. The doctor disappeared down the hallway leading the stranger to face unimaginable heartache. Seth moved back from the door; prepared himself to hear the worst.

The door knob turned slowly, he watched it through unblinking eyes. When it swung open, he took a deep breath.

“Dr. Butler.” She nodded and let the door close behind her. “My sister?”

“She’s alive, for the moment.” It was Seth’s turn to nod.

“I know.” When the doctor’s eyebrow arched, he continued. “We’re twins. I can feel her.” He raised a hand and rested it against his chest and then shrugged self-consciously. He didn’t expect the doctor to understand. It was just there, a thread he felt with his heart and mind, a connection to the person closest to him in his life. “How bad?” He held her gaze steadily, determined to be strong for his sister.

“She’s haemorrhaging internally. She’s prepped for surgery, but the pregnancy complicates things. She’s lost a lot of blood. It puts her and the baby in jeopardy. We’ve had trouble stabilizing her and almost lost the baby.”

“Save my sister.” The words emerged through a constricted throat. Tears stood in his eyes and fell unchecked as he met the doctor’s sympathetic gaze. He couldn’t lose his twin. There was so much he hadn’t said to her, so much he wanted to show her. “If you have to choose, save my sister.”

Dr. Butler shook her head. “Those aren’t her wishes.”

Seth’s temper spiked fuelled by the pain threatening to crush him. “What do you mean, not her wishes?”

“Right after she was brought in, she regained consciousness, made it very clear she wanted the baby to live at any cost. Which was odd considering…”

“Considering what?” Seth interrupted.

“She’d been drinking. Her blood alcohol was below the legal limit, but she also tested positive for marijuana. If she’s been drinking and smoking the entire pregnancy, it will affect the baby. She had to have known that.”

Seth couldn’t argue. He’d been to the doctor’s appointments with her, carried the various pamphlets out. She knew. “Can I override her, what she wants?” Dr. Butler shook her head. “What now?”

“Your sister didn’t have a living will. We need your permission to operate.” A band tightened around his chest. His sister’s life in his hands, how could he make that decision?

“And if I refuse?”

“They both will most likely die.” She stepped forward to lay a hand on his forearm. “Mr. Jacobs, I assure you we’ll do everything we can to save mother and baby. But, if she codes, her wishes take precedent. We’ll deliver the baby and go from there.”

“But, I could still lose them both. It’s not due for another month. Does it even stand a chance?”

“She does.” The doctor dropped her hand and retreated to the door. “The baby is a little girl. Do you know if your sister had any names picked out?”

Seth scrubbed his hand back and forth over his hair. “No, I don’t.” Tears blinded him. Bethany. A baby girl. In his gut he knew, one would live, one would die. “Operate.” What other choice did he have?

The door clicked quietly behind the doctor as she exited, leaving him to pull himself together. Rolling off a couple of sheets of the paper towels on the counter, he mopped at the moisture on his face.

Ten minutes later, he claimed the same seat in the waiting room. His gaze flicked to the ER doors when they swished open. The tall stranger stumbled through and disappeared deeper into the hospital. Grief marred the man’s face. Seth’s heart dropped into his gut. He turned his face away, the guilt once again settling on his shoulders. Had the man’s father died? Was he in surgery alongside Bethany? Where was Carrie and what had happened to her? Afraid of the answers, Seth remained in his chair and tried to shove the legal ramifications of the wreck from his mind.

If the man died, Bethany and Carrie could be arrested for vehicular homicide or murder. If he lived, the girls still faced a huge uphill battle; lawsuits, hospital bills, DUI charges and drug charges. His mind churned. But, what if Bethany didn’t live? The mere thought was too painful to contemplate. He glanced at the TV suspended in the corner, tried a magazine, attempted a game on his cell phone. Nothing worked.

Time passed slowly, the patients around him dwindling down and then growing again. Another ambulance screamed into the entrance bay. Nurses scrambled to meet paramedics. A stretcher wheeled into view and disappeared into the maw of the ER. Restless, he stood and searched out the bathroom. He stared at the stalls, his mind blank.
Why had he come in here?
Oh yeah, because he couldn’t sit still and the waiting was torture. The four walls seemed to close in on him. He shook his head to dislodge the surreal feeling and braced his hands on the sink while he concentrated on drawing air into his lungs.

It happened when he was washing his hands. The thread snapped. Heart and mind screamed in agony. He collapsed where he stood, his knees simply giving out. Fire burned in his chest as his tears scalded his cheeks. An aching chasm cracked and spread. He felt her drifting away.

“Nooooooo,” he moaned. “Bethie baby.” Laying his head against the cool porcelain of the sink, he sobbed for the loss of his twin, the other half of himself. Memories played kaleidoscope fashion across the backs of his eyelids. Bile rose in his throat causing him to dry heave. Grief’s nasty claws dug into his heart shredding it into ribbons. One question repeated over and over.
Why
?

He didn’t know how long he knelt there struggling to stop the grief and catch his breath. Dr. Butler would be out soon and would expect to see him waiting for news. He had to pull himself together and get off the damned floor.

He glanced around self-consciously. Thankfully, no one had entered the small room to bear witness to his total loss of control. When he finally managed to draw several even lungsful of air without a hitch, he shoved to his feet and turned on the tap. Cold water splashed over his face and washed away the tear tracks. There was no help for the swollen eyes and red nose. Numb, he left the bathroom and returned to his seat to await the doctor. All he wanted to do was go home and lick his wounds, but he had to find out if the baby survived.

“Mr. Jacobs.” All too soon, Dr. Butler placed a hand on his shoulder. He turned bleary eyes to meet her gaze.

“Did the baby live?” It took a few surprised blinks for Dr. Butler to snap her mouth closed and nod.

“Yes, she’s in neo-natal now. Her lungs aren’t fully developed and she’s underweight but she’s a fighter. Her heartbeat is strong. Have you thought of a name for her?”

He shook his head, the tears threatening again. “Can I see my sister?”

“She didn’t…”

“I know,” he interrupted. “I just need to say goodbye.”

“Mr. Jacobs, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Please, doctor.” The plea slipped free. “She’s all I had left.” His words broke along with his heart. Tears won the battle and fell once again. “Please.”

The quiet hallway echoed his footsteps. Antiseptic stung his nose. White, everywhere he looked. Only the green line on the floor provided any color.

“She’s in here.” Dr. Butler indicated a door on her left. “I’ll leave you alone. Just let the ER nurse know when you’re done.” With a soft pat on his arm, the doctor turned and left.

Seth pushed through the door his eyes going immediately to the sheet draped bed. A lump formed in his throat cutting off his air. Slowly, he closed the space between him and the bed. Shaking hands folded back the white cloth to reveal his sister’s battered face. His tears splashed on her cheeks as he bent to place a tender kiss against her forehead.

“I’m sorry Beth, so sorry I didn’t try harder to help you.” His thumb traced the curve of her cheek, back and forth against her already cool skin. Reminiscences paraded through his mind, laughter, tears, heartache, and accomplishments all with Bethany at his side her love and support never wavering even when he told her he was gay. Gone now, her light snuffed too early. “I’ll always love you, Sis. Go rest with the angels. I’ll take care of your baby girl.” The tears came again, blinding him. For the last time, he rested his forehead against her shoulder and found beneath the scent of hospital and blood, the fragrance that was Bethany.

“Goodbye, darling.” He whispered before straightening and carefully replacing the sheet. Frozen inside, he retraced his steps to the ER, reported in to the nurse, and walked out into the humid air. Halfway to his truck, he remembered the baby. His keys slid back into his jeans pocket. With a tired sigh, he turned and made his way back inside to ask for directions to the nursery.

Seth stared through the NICU glass at the tiny infant. Tubes and wires snaked through the holes in the incubator to cling to the baby. The information they gathered beeped and chirped into the machines. Nurses catalogued vitals at odd intervals. His eyes remained glued on the infinitesimal rise and fall of her chest.

“Are you her uncle?” The low feminine voice came from his right. He nodded. “I know now is not a good time, but eventually, we’ll need some information; insurance, medical history of the mother, custody arrangements. All of that can wait a few days.” A hand landed on his arm finally drawing his eyes to the woman at his side. Compassion shone in her green eyes. “Right now, just a simple question. A name? It helps the baby and us if we have a name.”

Panic tore into his chest. That small human being was totally reliant on him. He knew nothing about babies, never expected to have any. He’d known early in life he was gay. He suffered the discrimination, the lip curls, the eye rolls. No way had he ever expected to shove that hatred on a child, certainly not a child of his own. Obviously sensing his distress, she squeezed his forearm then dropped her hand. “The mother’s last name then?”

“Jacobs.” He managed through a closed throat. The nurse gave him a slight smile.

“Yes, sir.” Her gaze turned to the incubator. “Your niece is a fighter. She’s 1500 grams.” At his look of confusion, she converted to something he understood. “About three pounds. We’re feeding her intravenously and she’s handling it well. We do have a concern about anemia. She may need a blood transfusion. We understand that you and her mother are twins. Would you be willing to donate?”

The panic roared and he backpedalled. His promise to his sister rang in his head and stilled his feet. He took several deep fortifying breaths. “Yes. Do you need it now?”

“It’s better to be prepared, so if you don’t mind…”

“Where do I need to go?”

In a matter of minutes, the nurse handed him a bottle of orange juice and a honeybun. Tape covered the puncture wound in his arm. “That’s it. Now would you like to see her a bit closer?”

The terror returned full force. He surged to his feet and swayed as dizziness assailed him. “No, I have to go. Feed the dog.”
Shit that sounded lame
. “That is, funeral arrangements.” Stumbling into the hall, he braced a hand against the smooth painted surface and escaped as fast as he could.

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CHAPTER FIVE

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Knees bent to steady his frame over the porcelain halo, Elijah threw up what was left of his lunch. When there was nothing left to spew, he dry heaved until the gut wrenching pain eased. He flushed. Hot tears marred his cheeks, but Elijah didn’t care. He just knelt there, sobbing until the tension in his head threatened to explode. When the soft sound of footsteps entered the restroom, Elijah quieted and waited. He wasn’t one for being fussed over, and the last thing he needed at the moment was some Godforsaken know it all giving him the run down on how time was such a great healer.

God that phrase was such bullshit.
About to open the stall door, he paused when a low moan of despair broke through the silence of the room. The sound was one of total desolation and so completely familiar it sent chills down Elijah’s spine. He pushed open the door just enough to peer through, and was temporarily knocked breathless by the sight he witnessed. But, instead of offering to help the obviously heartbroken man pouring his heart out onto the bathroom floor, Elijah leaned back into the stall and pressed his head against the cold, white tiled wall. Jesus H. Christ, what a God damn clusterfuck this day had turned out to be.

The need of fresh air, even at ninety percent humidity, eventually drew Elijah out of his hole. He took a step forward and pushed open the stall to find the small empty bathroom awaiting him. Thank the Lord the stricken male had gone. All that evidenced the stranger’s attendance was the still running faucet now billowing steam. Elijah made short work of cleaning himself up. He had a funeral to arrange, and as much as he didn’t want to face the fact that his dad wasn’t ever coming back, there was nobody else to take the reins.

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Early the next morning, he’d only been on the road for about fifteen minutes and was just about to take the turn off that led up to Devereux’s when he received the call he’d been waiting for since he’d left the hospital. Noting the upcoming Hardees, Elijah turned off into the drive through and answered his phone.

“Chief Bussey here, Eli. I’m so sorry for your loss. Chamberlain is going to be sorely missed round these parts. He was my best friend since we was five years old. God! He married Maisey and me and baptised each one of our kids. Damn it.” Elijah waited as the police chief cleared his throat.