by Stacy Monson
Dad stepped back as Lindy settled on the edge of the bed, tears in her brown eyes. “It’s Monday, you goose. You went to work this morning. Ted said you’d had a meeting that seemed to go well, and then you went back to your desk and passed out. Apparently, you gave the guy next to you a heart attack.” Her grin wobbled. “But it turned out it was you having the heart problem.”
“That’s ridiculous.” She looked toward the doctor standing to the side. “My heart’s fine.”
He moved to her bedside. “Hi, Mikayla. I’m Dr. Helgeson. It seems you do have a small issue with your heart. It’s called an atrial septal defect. In other words, a hole in your heart. Yours is the most common, called an ostium secundum, located between the upper chambers. That’s good news.”
“Good news?”
“We can use a non-surgical procedure for the repair.”
She stared at him blankly.
“You won’t need open heart surgery,” he added. “That’s very good.”
Mikayla glanced around the room. “Where’s Mom?” Her heart, which the doctor had just said was defective, fluttered like the wings of a bird she’d startled on her hike.
“She went to get coffee,” Lindy said. “She’ll be right back.”
Mikayla struggled to sit up, and Lindy used the remote to raise the head of the bed. Mikayla’s vision blurred a moment then cleared as she looked at the doctor who smiled. If she were about to die, hopefully he’d look a bit more alarmed. “How do you know I have a hole?”
“We ran tests while you were having your beauty sleep to figure out why you collapsed.”
That was creepy. She glanced at her father and sister, then back to the doc. “Why wouldn’t we have known this a long time ago?”
“Many people go years and years before it’s discovered. Some aren’t discovered until there’s an autopsy.”
“Sorry I didn’t give you the fun of finding it that way.”
He chuckled. “I’m quite happy about that.”
So he was serious about a hole in her heart. The one that beat faster when she ventured into nature, wrestled a northern into the net, and hiked with Dad. “But I can’t live with a hole…”
“I’d say you’ve done quite well for three decades,” the doctor assured her. “The repair is relatively simple, as heart procedures go. Something that’s done regularly. Your surgeon is one of the best in the country, so I can guarantee you’ll be in great hands.”
The door opened and Mom entered, carrying two coffee cups. Meeting Mikayla’s gaze, she broke into a smile. “You’re awake!” She thrust the cups at Dad and hurried to the other side of the bed. “You gave us such a scare. How do you feel?”
Other than humiliated? “Fine.” Fainting at work. Great. She’d never live this down. She looked from one beloved face to the next. The only one missing was Maggie, who would understand this medical stuff better than anyone else. “And now that we know the procedure is no big deal, you can all stop looking at me like I’m about to keel over. You’re free to return to your regularly scheduled life.”
Laughter met her comment, but no one moved.
“Since we have the doctor here,” Lindy said, “I’d like to know more about this…condition. How could no one know she had it? Why would it show up now? Do Maggie and I have it too?”
“An atrial septal defect can be a genetic issue or, occasionally, a fluke. We’ll need to look into your family’s medical history to determine which. I would recommend every family member have an echocardiogram to determine if they might also be at risk. It would be important to know this for the next generation. While the hole in Mikayla’s heart is quite small, some genetic issues can be far more extensive in a developing fetus. That said, I wouldn’t worry…”
His voice faded as her heart-with-a-hole clenched. Genetic. Her future went dark. Who would marry someone with a defective heart, a problem that could be inflicted on more generations? What about Lindy and her fiancé Beau? She pressed her fingers over the beat she’d taken for granted. The gentle thump continued as it had for thirty years and one month.
“Mikayla?”
She started and looked at the doctor.
“Are you feeling light-headed? Any discomfort?”
She shook her head. If she spoke her fears aloud, it would make this all too real. He gave her a gentle smile and looked at her family. “I think our patient could use some time to rest. There’s been a lot of commotion and information that can overwhelm someone who’s only been awake twenty minutes.
“I’d like her to rest for the remainder of the evening.” He opened the door and stood expectantly. “My doctor’s orders are for everyone to go home and get some sleep while Mikayla does the same. She can go home tomorrow.”
“I’m staying,” Lindy stated, her fingers tight around Mikayla’s.
“I’m fine, Lin. He’s right, I need to sleep.”
When Lindy’s mouth opened to voice the protest darkening her eyes, Mikayla squeezed her hand. “Really. Go. You’re always telling me I need more sleep so let me sleep.”
“You’ll call if you need anything? Or just want to talk?”
“I will. Promise.”
Her frown faded and she leaned in for a hug, promising to bring Mikayla’s favorite latte in the morning. She rested her forehead against Mikayla’s as they had as kids and whispered, “Got your back.”
“Got yours too.” The simple, familiar exchange knotted her throat.
Their father took her place. “This is a little over the top just to get out of fishing with me, kid,” he said. The scratch in his voice outweighed his light words.
“No way would I weasel out of another chance to beat you, new lure or not. I’ll see you on the lake.” How she adored this man who’d taught her everything she knew.
“That’s my girl.” He grinned and kissed the top of her head. “Love you, honey.”
“Love you more, Dad.”
Her mother squeezed Mikayla’s hand, tears in her blue eyes. “You’ve always been the one scaring me with one adventure or another,” she scolded lightly. “It’s time to stop doing that.”
“Sorry.” Mikayla nodded. She’d been enough trouble for all three of them. “I promise not to do it again. If I can help it. Maybe.”
Her parents’ laughter, though forced, warmed her. When they’d all finally, reluctantly, left, the doctor returned to her bedside. “Are there questions you wanted to ask without the audience?”
She pulled in a slow breath, scrounging for courage. “It’s just…when you said genetics and history and children, I realized we’re not fooling around here. We’re talking about my whole life. Marriage, kids—”
Lifting a hand to stop her, he pulled a chair next to the bed and sat. “Mikayla, before you rearrange your future based on some vague possibilities, let’s take this one day at a time. We’ll get the procedure done in the next week or so, then we can focus on your family history and get the answers we need.
“There are no guarantees in life,” he added. “We could rule out every genetic possibility for every disease we know of, and something else could go wrong. Making major life decisions based on what might happen is no way to live.”
She bit her lip and nodded. Deep breath. Falling apart won’t help. “You’re right. So how do we fix this?”
“It’s minimally invasive,” he said, “which means you can go home within twenty-four hours and have a quick recovery. This type of procedure is done in a heart catheterization laboratory with a highly trained staff. You’ll be in very good hands.”
He stood and smiled. “Now, rest for a bit and then it’ll be time for the dinner cart. It’s amazing how much better we feel once we’ve had something to eat.” He paused at the door and winked. “Especially a helping or two of this hospital’s world renown chocolate pudding.”
A smile flickered across her mouth then faded. As the door closed, she curled on her side. There wasn’t much that truly scared her, but this… She pressed a fist over
her heart-with-a-hole. There was so much life still to live, so many places to explore, adventures to have. She’d just have to hope the doc was right and this would all be over soon.
No way would she miss Lindy’s wedding. Her twin would kill her.
~ 3 ~
From the couch in the townhome she shared with Lindy, Mikayla folded her arms and frowned at her mother. “If I’ve been just fine for thirty years, I think I’ll be fine until next week’s procedure. I need to go to work!”
Unruffled by Mikayla’s irritation, her mother fluffed a pillow and gestured for Mikayla to lean forward, then stuffed it behind her. “There. Now you can order everyone around from your throne. One more day off work won’t ruin your career. And it’s doctor’s orders.”
“Mom, I work with men. Fainting in front of them was about the worst thing I could do. I need to get back there.” She could imagine what Leif would say when she returned. Or how the guys would treat her. She’d always hated weakness, and fainting was about as weak as it got.
“You’re not a man,” her mother pointed out with infuriating patience. “You don’t have to act like them.”
“I don’t have to act like an eighteenth-century woman, either.”
Her mother settled into the recliner opposite the couch and cradled the cup of tea she’d set aside to fluff pillows. “Even men know this isn’t the eighteenth century.”
Mikayla dropped her head back with a strangled, “Argh!”
“I didn’t know people actually said that.” Mom pulled a decorating magazine onto her lap and leafed through it. “You’ve never allowed me to baby you. Indulge me for a bit. I promise I’ll go when your sister gets home from work.”
Mikayla glanced at her phone. Three more hours. She reached for her laptop and nestled against the pillow to focus on the proposal. She had articles to write, photos to sort through. So much was riding on this—her reputation, her future with the magazine. And now how she was viewed by her coworkers.
If the board approved it, she could push harder for more women to be hired on. And she’d suggest the magazine sponsor wilderness trips for women that she would lead. Her heart shimmied. That would be a dream come true.
She was more than a pretty face, sadly true because Lindy had gotten all of the beauty. A pretty face would probably be detrimental to this profession anyway. She just needed a creative way for them to see past her being female. This proposal was it.
She’d need to go through their family medical history to see where the heart issue came from. She loved uncovering details and finding answers, so she’d no doubt enjoy that process. Even with the procedure looming, there was a lot to look forward to. Questions to be answered. And a future to be mapped out.
Mom stayed true to her word and left when Lindy got home. After Chinese take-out, they relaxed in the living room. Lindy leaned back in the recliner and stretched out long legs, flipping through the magazine their mother had looked at earlier. “Day One down,” she said.
“Not funny. I feel like a toddler in need of constant supervision.”
“If the shoe fits.” Lindy shrugged, flipping her ponytail off her shoulder.
Mikayla pulled a pillow from behind her and flung it at her smirking sister. “One of these days it will be you laid up, and I won’t bat an eye when you beg me to get Mom out of your hair.”
“I don’t get sick.”
Mikayla frowned. That was true. While Lindy had rarely been sick through their childhood, Mikayla had caught every little thing going around, and now had this issue. “Huh. So why do I? We’ve lived the same life. We came out of the womb together, for Pete’s sake.”
“I’m tougher than you?”
Mikayla burst into laughter. Lin loved fashion and bling and stilettos. Mikayla loved her work boots, which Lindy refused to allow in the townhouse, and lived in jeans and a T-shirt. Lindy had her mechanic on speed dial for her beloved Audi while Mikayla happily dug under the hood of her old jeep though she knew nothing about engines.
“Okay, yeah.” She wiped her eyes, still giggling. “That’s got to be it.”
Bouncing a pedicured foot, Lindy continued through the magazine, a corner of her mouth twitching. “Laughter is good medicine, you know.”
“Well, a few more statements like that and the hole in my heart will mend itself.”
They sat in comfortable silence as Mikayla mulled over Lindy’s simple declaration. Lindy had been the healthiest right from the beginning, a germaphobe who couldn’t stand dirt under her gel nails.
“Remember that time you threw up over the side of the boat,” Mikayla said, “after I put the slug on the hook?”
Face twisting, Lindy shuddered. “That was the grossest thing I’d ever seen. And when you pretended to swallow it…”
Mikayla giggled. “I have to admit, that was a good one!”
“That was disgusting.” Lindy tossed the magazine on the coffee table and shifted to look at Mikayla, brown eyes glinting. “Remember when you lost the bet about my getting caught sneaking out and had to wear nail polish for a week?”
“On my fingers and my toes.” Mikayla rolled her eyes. “It lasted all of about thirty-six hours.”
“But you admitted it looked pretty. Until you started chopping wood and wrecked it.”
They traded memories until tears ran and their stomachs ached. When Lindy went into the kitchen to refill their coffee, Mikayla relaxed against the pillows with a sigh. Even after her wedding, Lin would always be her best friend and sister in crime. They were blessed.
The evening passed quietly as they worked on their computers, sharing occasional observations and news.
“Oh!” Lindy straightened in her chair at the dining room table. “Here are the results from my cardiac test yesterday.”
Mikayla threw off the blanket and crossed the room, dropping down beside her.
“I’m afraid to open it.”
An arm around her shoulders, Mikayla squeezed reassuringly. “If you’ve got the same issue, we’ll do the procedure together.”
Lindy’s finger hovered over the “Open” button, then she closed her eyes and tapped it. Side-by-side, they scanned the report. Finally, she sagged back in the chair. “I don’t have it.”
Relief and confusion tangling inside her chest, Mikayla smiled. “Yay!”
“But…why you and not me? Why not Dad or Mom?”
“They got their results already?”
Lindy nodded. “Their hearts are fine. Maggie scheduled hers for next week, but the surgeon she works with thinks she’s fine. But if the doc thinks it’s genetic, one of us should have it. This doesn’t make sense.”
She forced a shrug. “Luck of the draw, I guess. I’m not sure Mom could handle both of us having this problem.”
Lindy swiveled on the chair and grasped Mikayla’s hands. “Well, you’re not going through this on your own. I won’t let you.”
Mikayla managed another smile. “Thanks, Lin. No way could I do it alone.”
“Now that’s a first. Mikayla Gordon admitting out loud that she needs help.”
Mikayla shoved her playfully and returned to the couch. “I’m not afraid to admit it when I actually need to. I just don’t need to very often.”
“That’s for sure. You’d rather be covered in grease or dirt trying to figure something out than hire the professionals.”
“Why pay someone if I can do it myself?”
Lindy turned her attention back to her laptop, shaking her head. “You’re impossible.”
“But you love me anyway.”
Long after Lindy went to bed, Mikayla sat at her computer. How could she have a serious genetic condition that no one else in the family had? In search after search, the information seemed contradictory at best, unsettling at worst. The journalist in her chafed at the inconsistencies.
She closed the laptop and climbed into bed where she stared at the shadows on the ceiling. She’d always felt like the odd girl out. Now this. With a huff, she rolled
to her side and closed her eyes. There had to be an explanation, so she’d continue her search for answers, starting with Mom.
~ 4 ~
Mikayla strode through the office doors Wednesday morning, chin lifted. The little fainting episode was just that, an episode. Once the procedure was done, she’d be back to normal. She smiled to herself. Better than normal—a force to be reckoned with.
She stopped short at her cubicle. A pillow and folded blanket sat neatly on her chair with…what was the little medicine bottle? Ahh. Smelling salts. It would be funny in another setting.
“We tried to get everything you might need,” Leif drawled, elbows propped on the cubicle wall.
“I’d say you did just fine,” she replied with a smile. “Nice touch with the smelling salts. You’d better hope you never have an issue here, Leif. I’m an expert at payback.”
He chuckled. “Says you. Too bad we’ll never find out since I don’t faint.”
“Good thing mine was a fluke.”
“They figure out why you did?”
She shrugged. No way would she mention the hole. “I hadn’t had breakfast”—that much was true—“so I think that was part of it. A little dehydrated. And I kayaked about twenty miles last weekend. But I’ve gotten work done at home and had a big breakfast today, so no worries.” She connected her laptop and pulled out the proposal folder. “Lots to do today.”
“I can take a hint. You just holler if you need anything, little lady.”
Jaw clenched, she held in the grimace until he dropped into his chair, then squeezed her eyes closed and counted silently to ten. There was no question she could out paddle, hike, and fish the big dolt any day. She pulled in a slow breath and opened her eyes. She wasn’t going to waste time or energy letting him under her skin. She had a career to build. The folder in her hands was her ride upward.
Hours later her head ached, her stomach growled, and her eyes had lost focus. She glanced at the clock and straightened. Only one column written all morning? She massaged her temples. The words hadn’t flowed like she expected. Ideas played hide and seek with concerns about the procedure. For Pete’s sake, she’d only be in overnight, with one day at home to recover and a week staying low-key.
