"If you believe that about God, why don't you claim Him?" Juliette asked the inevitable question.
"Just because I think He's fair, doesn't mean I like Him." Phoebe reached over and bumped Renata's knee, effectively changing the subject back to her sister. "So how long have you been holding this in?"
"We've been trying for a while now." Her voice was dulled by pain. "I don't know what's wrong with me. My doctor says we're both fine. I have plenty of healthy eggs. John has lots of manly sperm."
"Ew. I don't want to know how you know that." Juliette scrunched up her face.
"No," Renata chuckled. "You probably don't. Suffice it to say that John won't look Dr. Flynn in the eye ever again."
"Why not? He didn't like the donor process?"
"Why do you always have to go there, Phoebe?" Juliette poked her with a foot.
"Nope. He hated it. He was mortified when the nurse tried to offer him a girlie magazine. He got all indignant and told the guy to back off. It was a male nurse." Renata grinned at the memory, then sighed.
"We've tried everything, but for some reason, we just can't make it stick. And I'm tired of the disappointment every month. And I'm tired of the look on John's face when I have to tell him that there's no baby again." She snorted and smiled through her tears. "Not that he's complaining about having to try some more. He doesn't mind that part."
"Okay, Ren! Ew! Now you sound like Phoebe." Juliette was sure that would get a response and she wasn't disappointed. Phoebe squeezed her knee and Juliette squealed.
"Well, I think this trip is my crazy attempt to come to terms with not having any more babies; with not having a girl. I don't ever want my boys to think they're not enough, so I guess I felt like I had to go away and mourn somewhere else. I don't know. I haven't really thought all of this stuff through myself. I thought I'd have the whole week to figure it out," she said dryly.
"Okay, you two," Juliette said, leaning forward and reaching for Phoebe, one arm still around Renata. "Group hug."
At first, there were tears, then there were giggles. Then Phoebe released a little belch, and Renata pushed her. Phoebe pushed back. Renata shoved harder and Phoebe slid off the side of the bed and onto the floor.
"Hey!" Phoebe cried. She snatched one of the pillows off the bed and attempted to thump Renata on the head, but walloped Juliette instead.
The brief pillow fight ended suddenly when Juliette's wild swing took out Renata's half-full coffee cup from the bedside table, sending warm liquid splashing across the wood floor, fortunately missing the braided rag rug beside the bed.
Phoebe hurried to the kitchen for paper towels, and by the time they'd set things to right again, Renata felt a hundred pounds lighter.
"I'm sorry I was so snippy with you this afternoon, you guys," she apologized again. "And I suppose I should call John tonight after all. He's so good to me. I don't know what I did to deserve him."
Juliette reached over and gave her a warm hug. "I love you, little sister."
"I love you, too, Juliette. And you, Phoebe. Thanks for letting me unload on you."
"Actually, we didn't let you. We made you unload, remember? You were our hostage." Phoebe poked her in the ribs as she walked by on her way to the little bathroom. "I'm getting tired, Jules. Can I go to bed now?" She yawned, and Renata glanced at the clock again. She was amazed to see that it was nearly eleven o'clock. They'd been talking for hours.
"Oh no. It's awfully late. I probably shouldn't call John until the morning." Then she looked at her sisters and spoke softly. "I'm really grateful you came today. I feel much better just having talked it over with someone besides John. I don't have any different answers, but I feel better about facing things." She blinked back a few tears, then added. "I don't know how I'll feel about all this in the morning, so go easy on me, okay? I do feel much better, but just a little more, well, vulnerable than usual."
Juliette laughed gently and handed Renata her cell phone. "Here. Call your husband tonight—I'm sure he'd be happy just to hear your voice, if I know John—or call him first thing in the morning, if you'd rather. I can borrow Phoebe’s phone if I need to make a call."
"Like to Victor?" Phoebe wiggled her eyebrows.
"Not on your phone, I won't. Then you'll have his number and he'll start getting inappropriate phone calls." Juliette teased.
"Oh. Nice one, Juliette." Renata felt her old spiky personality begin to slip back in place. She didn't mind. Being vulnerable was not something she did well, and she kind of liked her prickles. "That's why I haven't given her John's number."
"Oh, I have their numbers, both of them, don't you two worry about that," Phoebe murmured. "I know who to call if I need a big strong man around."
"Go to your room, Phoebe," Renata commanded, half-joking, half-serious. She was tired of the banter, she was tired of her own story, she was just plain tired.
"Good night, then, Ren darling. Sleep well." Phoebe kissed her on the cheek, pranced out of the room, and headed up the stairs. Juliette followed shortly.
Lying in bed in the dark, new tears on her cheeks, but these of relief, Renata decided to wait until morning to call John. She knew this job with McCain was tearing him apart, and he needed all the sleep he could get. She set Juliette's phone on the bedside table within reach and programmed the alarm for 6 in the morning. That would give John some time to get ready before she called him but she would still be able to catch him at home. As she turned on her side, she reached out to lay a hand on the spot where John's chest would be if he were here with her.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The sun didn't wake her as it usually did, because the heavy drapes were drawn across the window. The alarm clock didn't wake her either, because she'd accidentally set if for 8 p.m. instead of a.m. When the thud of her door crashing against the wall jolted her out of her dreams, she bolted upright and looked frantically around the room, her heart galloping in panic.
"Renata! Wake up! Ren!" It was Phoebe, and she sounded frantic. She looked frantic.
"What is it? Is Juliette—"
"It's Grandpa G, Ren. He couldn't reach you on your phone." Phoebe handed her the phone she'd had cradled against her ear a moment ago. Suddenly, Renata didn't want to hear the news he had. She covered the mouthpiece with her hand.
"What's going on? Is Granny G okay?"
Then Juliette was there, too, fully dressed. "I've got our things packed, Phoebe. Go get dressed. I'll help Ren." Then she turned her pain-shadowed eyes on Renata.
In a panic, Renata grabbed Phoebe's sleeve and tried to hand her back her phone. "I don't want to. No. No! I don't—I can't talk right now."
Phoebe tugged free, her eyes suddenly bright with tears, then hugged Renata fiercely. "Talk to Grandpa, Ren. Now."
Renata's hands were shaking as she brought the device up to her ear. "Grandpa? It's Renata."
"Honey." He made no small talk. "John has had a fall at work. He's alive, and he's asking for you, but he's in pretty critical condition. I'm so sorry, Renata honey, but you need to come home immediately."
"Oh God, oh God, oh God." It was a prayer, the words falling from her lips like an overflowing vessel. She almost dropped the phone, her hands were shaking so hard, but she pressed it to the side of her face, desperate for details that would ease her mind. "Is—is he going to be okay?"
"Now you listen to me, Renata." He didn't answer her question, and that scared her more than anything. "You cannot afford to drive unsafely. I am not going to tell you to let one of your sisters take the wheel, however, I'm going to warn you that you may not be in any condition to drive."
"No! I'm driving. I'll be careful, I promise." Renata suddenly jumped into action. She pulled her suitcase out from under the bed and threw it open. There was little left to do but round up her toiletries in the bathroom, which Juliette was already doing, and gather up the few things scattered around the place. "Grandpa? I'm okay. I need to go. I'll see you soon. I love you.
" Without waiting for his reply, she hung up and hurried into the bathroom.
"Please leave my makeup and hairspray out. I don't want to get there looking like a stray cat. He'll want to see me looking like me." She turned toward her reflection and cringed. "Oh, why did I cut my hair! He loved my long hair!" Then the tears began.
Juliette reached for her and hugged her hard, then grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her slightly. "Renata, suck it up. John needs you strong now. Your boys need you steady, okay? Wash your face, put on your make up, fix your hair. Get it together, you hear? I'll finish packing your stuff. You didn't use any of the upstairs rooms, right?"
"No. I was only in the living room and kitchen and in here." Renata bit down on her bottom lip, the pain a welcome distraction from her panic, but she couldn't stop her hands from shaking and it took her an eternity to get her eyeliner on straight. By the time she was dressed and primped, Phoebe had returned with hers and Juliette's bags, and was standing by the door waiting.
"Ready?" she asked. "Juliette's got your car already started. We'll leave her car here. Grandpa talked to Toby about keeping an eye on it for a few days."
"Okay. Then I'm ready," Renata nodded. She prayed she could keep it together. She had assured both sisters she could drive, that she had to drive. There was no way she could sit in the back seat twiddling her thumbs for the two and a half hour drive to the hospital where John had been admitted.
The silence in the car as they pulled out of the driveway was filled with uncertainty and fear. Finally Renata spoke. "Did Grandpa give you any details? Do you know what happened?"
She had both hands on the wheel, her eyes never leaving the road, not even to ask her sisters her questions. Before taking off, Juliette had prayed for clear roads, clear weather, and no traffic to slow them down. Silently, Renata repeated the prayer over and over, adding her own thoughts to it. Get me home quickly, Lord. Get me home to my John. Keep him alive. Keep him alive. Keep us safe. Keep him alive. Home quickly. Alive. Safe. Home quickly. Alive. Safe.
"Grandpa didn't know much, but he's on his way over there now. He said he'll call back as soon as he gets some details. The hospital called your home number when they couldn't reach your cell, and Gia answered. She referred them to Grandpa, but they wouldn't tell him much. I don't think they know much yet, anyway. It only happened an hour ago." Juliette was sitting in the front seat with her, and several times, from the corner of her eyes, Renata saw her glance at the phone in her lap.
"My anger. I was so angry last night."
"What do you mean, Ren?" Phoebe asked from the back seat.
"My phone. They couldn't call me because I threw a temper tantrum and destroyed my phone." She caught her breath. "And I…and I didn't call John last night. I didn't get to tell him.… He thinks I'm still angry at him." Her words trailed off, her eyes brimming with tears. "The last thing I said to him—"
"Renata, stop it." Juliette's calm voice interrupted her downward spiral. "John knows you love him. That's what's important. Let's just focus on getting there, okay? Do you want me or Phoebe to drive?"
"No! No, I have to do something. I can't just sit in the back seat and think. At least driving gives me something to concentrate on." She dabbed at her tears with a tissue, careful not to smudge her mascara. "Does my makeup still look okay?" She glanced in the rearview mirror to see Phoebe watching her, her own eyes big and bright with unshed tears.
"It looks fine. No smears," Phoebe assured her.
"Well, no news is good news, right?" Renata said, her voice shaking.
"That's exactly right, Ren," Phoebe said from the back seat, her hand briefly resting on Renata's shoulder. She was glad she didn't leave it there; she couldn't handle being touched right now.
Fifteen minutes later, there was still no phone call. The girls rode in silence, staring out the windows at the stunning views the mountain road offered of the valley below them, but seeing very little. Each one was awash in her own emotions, and Renata was at first grateful for the silence. Like physical touch, she didn't think she could handle anymore banal conversation than was absolutely necessary. But not hearing back from Grandpa was killing her.
"Can you call him back?" She didn't bother explaining who; she knew Juliette had to be thinking the same thing. "Maybe he's heard something."
"I wonder if Gia knows anything," Phoebe commented. "Why don't I call her and you call Grandpa, Jules."
The car was silent again while they waited for someone to pick up on the other end of the line. Gia answered first; Grandpa didn't pick up. Phoebe put her on speaker phone.
"Oh, Rennie, I'm so sorry. I can hardly believe this is all happening. Are you…are you…?"
"She's holding up, Gia," Phoebe assured her. "Honey, we called because we need to know if you've heard anything or if you have any details that we didn't get. All we know is that John fell and he's being treated at the Huntington Trauma Center in Pasadena. Do you know anything else?"
"Oh gosh, yes! A guy named something McCain called here, too, looking for you, Ren. He—he was with John when he fell. John was on a ladder about fifteen feet up and pulling some wires that had been put in the wrong way or something. Mr. McCain was on scaffolding close by and said that John's ladder must have been badly positioned because at one point, John turned to talk to him over his shoulder, and the ladder started to slide along the wall. The ladder hit the scaffold and John tumbled off, then the ladder came down on top of him." Gia's voice broke and she paused.
"Georgia! I want to know about John! What happened to John!" Renata's spoke sharply, loudly, and Juliette reached over and laid a hand on her arm.
"Don't touch me!" Renata said, shaking her off. "How badly is he hurt, Georgia?"
"I—I don't know, Ren. Mr. McCain said he landed on his back and the ladder came down on top of him. I don't know much more than that. Mr. McCain didn't either at that point. He was calling from the hospital though. He said he wanted to wait for you there," she finished lamely.
"What?" Renata gasped, her rage making her voice gravelly and harsh. "That man better not be there when I get there. He's been nothing but vile to John from the very start of this job. If he thinks he's going to play Mr. Nice Guy to me, he can think again."
The silence that followed her outrage was almost welcoming to her. She thought about John's frustration over Scott McCain and his ineptitude on the job, his bullish ways and his puffed up attitude. She imagined John this morning, probably miserable over how things were between him and her, maybe distracted, up on a high ladder, most likely undoing wiring McCain had done wrong.
Phoebe took Gia off the speakers and finished the conversation with her. Renata could hear her soothing their youngest sister.
"No, Gia. Stop worrying. It's okay. Hey, you don't have to sit by Rennie's phone now, so why don't you ask Granny G to pick up the boys for you. Then you can go sit with Grandpa at the hospital to wait for us."
"Let me talk to her," Renata barked, reaching back for the phone.
"I don't think that's a good idea, Ren. You worry about driving, okay?" Juliette spoke quietly, firmly.
"Let me talk to her!" Renata cried out, jerking the car off to the side of the road so suddenly that Phoebe shouted in fright from the back seat. "Give me the phone, Phoebe!"
Turning around in her seat, Renata glared at her until Phoebe said, "Gia, you have my permission to hang up if you feel uncomfortable, okay? Here's Ren."
Renata took the phone and brought it to her ear. "Georgia, I'm sorry I snapped at you. We have at least another hour and a half or more of driving ahead of us and I'm going out of my mind with worry. I shouldn't have taken it out on you, but I need to know anything and everything you know. I don't want to walk in there with nothing."
"It's okay, Rennie," Gia whispered, and Renata could tell she was crying. "I understand. Mr. McCain said it's pretty bad. The ladder is one of those heavy-duty construction ones that extends to twenty-four feet. He did
n't go into details with me, but when John came to, he made Mr. McCain promise to let you know he was okay. That's a good sign, right? That he was aware enough to worry about you?"
"I think so. I hope so." Renata closed her eyes and dropped her head so her chin almost rested on her chest. "Do you know if there was any damage to his head?" She didn't know if she wanted to hear Gia's answer.
"Um, the ladder, Mr. McCain said it landed on…on his…his face." Gia's voice was so low Renata had to hold her breath to hear her words.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
”Oh, John." Her shoulders came up and she reached with her free hand to grab the back of her neck, trying to hold everything together. The other two sat watching her, waiting for word.
Finally, Renata lifted her head. "Georgia, I need you to call Tim Larsen. I don't have his number because I broke my phone, but it should be on that list of emergency numbers on the fridge door. Can you please call him and let him know? And give him Juliette's and Phoebe's number in case he gets there before you do and can give me some kind of information."
"Of course. I'll do that right now." She was trying so hard to be brave, Renata could tell, and it broke her heart. "And Rennie, I'm praying. Real hard. I love you."
"Thanks. I love you, too." She hung up and pulled back onto the highway as carefully as she could before filling Juliette and Phoebe in on what Gia had told her.
"Sorry, Ren. I was worried you'd make Gia feel even worse than she already did. I should have trusted you."
"Let it go, Phoebe. I'm probably not very trustworthy right now. Let's just drive, okay?"
About fifteen minutes later, Juliette's phone rang. She listened to the person on the other end of the phone, then said, "It's a lady named Judy from the hospital. She wants to talk to you."
Once again they pulled over and without having to be asked, Phoebe traded places with her so they could keep moving.
"This is Renata."
"Hi, Mrs. Dixon. I understand that you're under a terrible amount of strain right now, so this will be very quick. I just have a few questions for you. Does your husband have medical coverage?"
Renata and the Fall from Grace Page 13
