Saturday Morning (32 page)

As soon as they left, the nurse asked,
“¿Cómo se siente?
I’m Maria, by the way. I’m going to be watching over you while you’re visiting us.”

Hope was intrigued by the nurse’s personality. This was a woman who was comfortable in her own skin. “A little weak, but okay.”

“You gave everyone a scare, huh?”

“Not on purpose.” She waited while the nurse checked her over. “I’m kind of woozy.”

“The medication is causing some of that. The more you relax, the easier on the baby.”

“What caused—I mean, what did I do to cause … ?”

Maria shrugged. “Probably nothing. Sometimes things like this just happen. It may sound harsh, but God knows what He’s doing. If He wants you to have a baby, He’ll make sure you’ll have that baby. If He doesn’t … ” She shrugged, then wrote something down on the chart.

“My husband and I—we’ve been praying for a miracle for eight years. I was told I would never have a baby.”

“So God answered you. Now you have to do all you can to keep the baby. And it looks like bed rest, at least for a couple of weeks.”

“And then?”

“And then we see. You’re that woman pastor over at J House, aren’t you?”

“Yes. Why?”

“Oh, you made a big difference in the life of a friend of mine. Remember a girl named Juanita Alvarez?”

“Of course. How is she?”

“Second year of nursing school.”

“Oh, wow. I knew she had it in her.”

“You saved her life.”

Hope remembered they’d gotten Juanita clean and sober and helped her dream again. When she was ready, they sent her to stay with some friends of theirs, who frequently took in girls needing a safe place, away from their usual environment. Juanita had struggled with school, but with their encouragement, she’d stuck to it.

“Thank you. I needed to be reminded of that right now.”

The nurse took her hand. “Listen, hon, I won’t pull any punches. This isn’t going to be easy, with you being such an active person and all. But six months isn’t forever, so keep your eye on your goal: a healthy baby. Meanwhile, you can catch up on your reading and play on the computer. You can even continue your counseling, as long as you do it from your bed and you don’t get stressed.”

Hope stared up at the ceiling. Flat on her back was coming to mean a whole new reality.

Roger returned seconds after the nurse left.

“What did she say?” He held a single peach rose and some baby’s-breath in a bud vase with a sunset ribbon tied in a bow. He set it on her tray. “This is to remind you that life is beautiful, no matter what.” He leaned over the bed rail and kissed her. “And that I always love you.”

Tears brimmed again. “Oh, Roger, you shouldn’t have.”

“Too bad. I had to do something.”

Clarice and Andy hesitated at the door. “If you two want to be alone … ,” Andy said.

“No, come in.” Hope waved them in with her free hand. “Pull up some chairs, and let’s do some thinking.”
Relax.
She held a breath and breathed out slowly, concentrating on relaxing, her shoulders especially. Only when she did that did she realize she wore her shoulders hunched up to her ears much of the time.

“Okay.” Clarice had taken a notepad and pen out of her purse. “I’m ready.”

Hope rattled off the things that needed immediate attention. “And tell Celia”—she shook her head—“no, Roger, you tell Celia to please cooperate with Clarice, okay? That I need her now more than ever, and that as far as I’m concerned she is and always will be my executive assistant.” She turned back to Clarice. “I know you know what the problem is. Celia is jealous of you and how capable you are. All her life people have told her she would never amount to anything, and so she had incredibly low self-esteem. And she’s insecure.”

“Boy, after what I’ve been through lately, I can relate,” Clarice said.

“Then please, do whatever you have to do to work with her. Be careful what you say, and respect her space. Just remember that she feels threatened by you.”

“I have been working on it, but I’ll work even harder. I like Celia, and she’s good at what she does.”

“Yes, she is.”

Maria knocked and entered. “Okay, boys and girls, time to go home. Our patient needs some sleep, and it’s hard enough to get it here.”

Clarice stuffed her paper and pen back in her purse.

Andy stood. “Ever obedient. Later today, if you can call me and tell me what you need, I’ll get it together. Here’s my phone number.” She laid a card on the table. “I’ll call Julia as soon as I get back.” She patted Hope’s hand. “I’ll be praying.”

When she stepped back, Clarice did the same. She waggled her fingers. “Tomorrow, if Nurse Hatched”—she whispered the name—“will let me, I’ll massage your shoulders.”

Hope grinned at the reference to Nurse Ratched. “I’ll look forward to it. You are an angel unawares.”

They all waved as they went out the door. Hope sniffed and wiped under her eyes with her fingertips. To think, three weeks ago she didn’t know those women. Another one of those prayers God
answers before you think to ask.
How would I have known to even ask for such friends? I thought my life was pretty full.

I will never leave you nor forsake you.
The promise came clear, as if someone had spoken from the head of her bed. Peace like the softest of airy blankets kissed her face and warmed her heart.

Hope woke to the sound of nurses shoes squeaking down the hall. She’d been vaguely aware of blood pressure checks during the night but never fully roused.
Thank You, thank You, Father for sleep and safety.
She laid her right hand over her belly.
Bless you, little one, so strong and brave. Tenacious you are.
She let her mind float, thinking of a name good enough for this little life.
Boy or girl we need a name for each. Esther? Joshua? Ruth? David?
She played through names she knew. Had Roger given any thought to a name yet?

A nurse stopped in the doorway. “You’re awake.”

“Yes. Am I allowed up for the bathroom?”

“No, sorry. I know the bedpan is uncomfortable, but … ”

“Don’t worry. I’ll do whatever I have to do.”

Once she’d washed her face and brushed her teeth, she felt better, and with the head of the bed cranked up a little, she saw the rose Roger had brought her.
Oh, Lord, how blessed I am with that man.
Seven thirty, time to call him. She dialed their private number and counted the rings. Three, four …
Come on, please don’t be in the shower.
Five … The answering machine came on. She hung up, disappointment pulling at her mouth.

The door opened.

“Hey, beautiful, how’s my favorite woman?”

“Better be your only woman,” she said sternly. She reached for him. “I called, and you didn’t answer.”

“How could I? I wasn’t there.” He leaned over the railing and gave her the kind of kiss that she hoped never quit curling her toes.

“I missed you.”

“No, you didn’t, you slept all night.”

“How do you know?”

“Nurse Maria said so, at eleven and three and six. We’ve gotten to be good friends.”

“Oh, you.” She stopped. “You didn’t really call all those times?”

“Of course I did.”

“Did you ever sleep?” She checked his eyes to see if they were bloodshot or had dark circles. “You look pretty good.”

“You look wonderful. There’s some color back in your cheeks.”

“Roger, there’s always color in my cheeks.”

“Not last night, there wasn’t.” He set the bag he’d brought on her bed. “Here’re some things I thought you’d need, and a few of Celia’s ‘must haves.’”

“Uh-oh. Dare I look?”

“Breakfast.” The aide stopped at the foot of the bed. “Hi there, Miss Hope, remember me?” She set the tray on the bed table.

Hope eyed the young woman. “You sure look familiar. Refresh my memory.”

“That’s ‘cause I look a lot like my sister, my older sister, Shelby. Shelby Clark?”

Hope tapped into her mental computer. “Runaway. Long time ago. How’s she doing?”

“It’s been rough, but once she got rid of that good-for-nothing husband of hers, she got back on track and married a real good guy. They have the cutest little boy. He’s my man.” She adjusted the bed table and pushed it into position. “I promised myself I was never going to mess up like she did.” She turned to Roger. “After you told her that no man ever had a right to beat on a woman, she filed for divorce.”

Hope eyed her breakfast tray. “Would that all our girls turned out like Shelby.” She was starved. The cup of decaf coffee looked more like tea, but at least it smelled right. She handed it to Roger. “Here,
you drink this. Next baby, you get to be pregnant, and I get to drink the coffee.”

The aide left the room laughing.

“Celia is coming by to do your hair, and Clarice will man—or woman—the desk. Julia’s first class is tonight, and she’ll be by sometime this afternoon. Has the doctor been here yet?”

“Nope.” Hope downed her orange juice. “Did Peter call?”

Roger nodded. “He said he called Blakely Associates and told them we weren’t interested and to stop soliciting us.”

“Something tells me they won’t give up, that they’ll do whatever they have to do to push us into a corner.” She wondered if she should tell Roger what she’d been thinking. She didn’t want to alarm him. He had enough on his plate right now. Still … “I know this probably could sound like I’m overreacting, but did you wonder if that drug tip last Sunday might have come from them?”

“It crossed my mind,” he said, grimacing as he sipped the coffee. “Whoa! That’s gotta be the worst coffee I ever tasted.” He shook himself all over like a wet dog. “I don’t want you worrying about them. I’ve got some of my buddies checking them out.”

“Anything new for Clarice?”

“Negative. Are you going to eat that toast and egg?”

Hope shook her head. “I’m good with the juice and the bacon.” How come this morning bacon sounded good, and others it had sent her to the bathroom? She nibbled the crisp strip carefully. Nope, no problem.

Roger cleaned her plate and spread jam on the second piece of toast. “Sure you don’t want this?”

“Mister Roger, why you eatin’ all her breakfast?” Celia strode through the doorway, beauty case in hand.

“Because I’m hungry, and my mother told me to never waste food, to think of all the starving children in the world.”

“Hey, Celia. Who’s minding the store?” Hope smiled. She loved Celia like the sister she had never had. No one had a bigger heart than Celia.

“I got Clarice fillin’ in. By the time I get back, she’ll probably have scrubbed all the walls and sewed new curtains.” She kept a straight face. “I woulda been here sooner, but … ” She held up a square box.

Hope inhaled the heavenly fragrance of fresh doughnuts.
Thank You, God. Now, make them Krispy Kreme.

“There better be enough in there for me, or it’s contraband.” Dr. Cheong eyed the box as she came through the door.

“I got a dozen just in case I had to bribe the guard.” Celia set the box down and opened the lid. “Got napkins, too.”

Hope all but groaned as the smell of sugarcoated raised doughnuts found its way to her nose. “Me first,” she said, reaching out her hand.

“Who said you could have doughnuts, missy?” Dr. Cheong asked.

Hope’s hand stopped midway to her mouth. “Tell me you’re kidding.”

Dr. Cheong started to reach for the doughnut, then stopped. “Okay, I’m kidding.”

Andy checked the messages on her cell phone. When she saw one from Martin, she pushed the button and listened. “I’ll be back in San Francisco Monday morning. I’m really sorry I had to leave, but I don’t have anyone trained yet. I’ll hang the cabinet doors when I get home. Have a good weekend. Love you, Martin.”

Ordinarily, she would have been tempted to throw the phone across the room, but not this Friday morning. She had been doing a lot of praying lately, for Hope, Hope’s baby, J House, the Girl Squad, and for herself and Martin. One of the many things she realized was that if she wanted to save her marriage, she would need to try harder to understand what was going on with Martin.

Something had sparked when Hope told Clarice to tread carefully with Celia. Like Celia, Martin had a serious case of low self-esteem. Early in their marriage, he’d told her that his parents were losers, and that he’d struggled to make something of himself so he wouldn’t end up like them. On the Internet, she’d read that low self-esteem often translated into insecurity, and that insecurity could result in jealousy. Even of his wife’s business? The thought still made Andy shake her head, and yet …