“Yeah,” Charlie said in the phone.
“Jeez, Charlie, were you raised in a barn?” Sandy asked in the background.
“Yes,” Charlie laughed. “Uh, Sandy’s phone, this is Charles Delgado-Norsen. How’s that?”
Sandy’s voice was muffled.
“Can I talk to Sandy?” Heather asked.
“Who may I say is calling?” Charlie asked.
“You know who this is,” Heather said. “It’s kind of an emergency. And when did you become a Norsen?”
“I thought that would sound super fancy,” Charlie laughed. He moved away from the phone and said, “It’s for you.”
“It’s my phone,” Sandy said. “Of course it’s for me. Sorry about that.”
“Sandy, I need some help,” Heather said.
“Just a second,” Sandy said. “Okay, I locked myself in the bathroom.”
“Tink’s doing that thing that you used to do,” Heather whispered. “They told us she had seizures, but that’s not a seizure.”
“It’s a nightmare?” Sandy asked.
“Looks like those things you used to have,” Heather said. “Night terrors.”
“Poor thing,” Sandy said. “Should I come over?”
Someone pounded on the bathroom door. A deeper voice, probably Aden, said something to the person pounding on the door.
“The natives are full of sugar and excited,” Sandy said. “The outside party is just getting going and Delphie wants them in the clothes she got for them. I hate to say it, but they actually look . . . civilized.”
Sandy chuckled and Heather smiled.
“I hate to ask . . . I know you have . . . but Blane he’s . . .”
“Give me five minutes,” Sandy said.
The phone went dead. Heather went back to the doorway of the other room. She remembered from Sandy’s night terrors that if she didn’t do it exactly the right way, anything she said or did would get integrated into Tink’s night terror. At this moment, she couldn’t remember what the heck she was supposed to do. Her phone buzzed. She looked down to see that Blane was calling.
“How’s Honey?” Heather tried to be breezy so he wouldn’t know how worried she was.
“She’s just starting real labor,” Blane said. “Sorry it’s been so long. We’ve had a tough time deciding what to do.”
“Why?” Heather asked.
“Because the midwife wants Honey to fight through natural delivery,” Blane said. “The doctor wants to do a safe C-section. MJ isn’t able to talk and Honey, well . . . I’m always amazed with her ability to handle everything.”
“Can she deliver naturally?” Heather asked.
“Steve thinks she can, and he’s her nurse,” Blane said. “Anyway, I called because I just had that . . . twinge that you needed me. Are you all right?”
“I think Tink’s having night terrors,” Heather said.
“Not a seizure?” Blane asked.
“They look like what Sandy has sometimes,” Heather said. “I know I can’t say her name or touch her, but I don’t remember what I can do.”
“I’m so sorry I’m not there to help,” Blane said. “You must be worried sick. Should I come home?”
“No,” Heather said. “Honey needs you. And if MJ can’t talk, they both need you to be their voice. Sandy’s coming over so we’ll figure something out.”
“You always amaze me too,” Blane said. “You’re awfully generous.”
Heather blushed at his words.
“We do things together,” Heather said. “I think Honey deserves your undivided attention.”
“Call me if you change your mind,” Blane said. “I’ll call as soon as I can. Love you.”
And he was gone.
Heather paced around in the hallway until she saw Sandy coming up the stairs. Sandy hugged her and went into Tink’s bedroom. She was just there a moment before she came back out.
“Night terrors?” Heather asked.
“Looks like night terrors to me,” Sandy said. “Come on.”
Sandy went into the room and around the bed near Tink’s head. Anxious, Heather lingered near the door.
“Get over here,” Sandy mouthed to Heather. “You’re her mother. Be the Mom you are.”
Heather smiled at Sandy and Sandy grinned. Sandy pointed for Heather to sit down on the bed.
“Say her name,” Sandy said. “We need to comfort her.”
“Tink,” Heather said in a soft comforting voice. Sandy gestured her to say more. “You’re safe. You’re here with us. Tink.”
The girl’s night terror seemed to get worse. Her mouth opened in a grimacing silent scream. Heather looked up at Sandy in desperation.
“Tiffanie,” Sandy said.
The girl stopped moaning. Sandy gestured for Heather to continue.
“Tiffanie, you’re home now, safe and sound,” Heather said in her most comforting voice. “Tiffanie. Remember tonight? You went to the party and sat next to Charlie.”
“Pan,” Sandy whispered.
“Pan,” Heather said. “Tiffanie, you are loved. You are safe. Everything is fine.”
“Keep going,” Sandy left the room. Heather heard the bathtub going.
“Tiffanie. Remember your pretty dress and Charlie’s . . . uh . . . Pan’s reaction when he saw you?”
The girl seemed to smile.
“You are safe. No one can hurt you now,” Heather said.
Tink rolled onto her back and opened her eyes. Heather gave her a moment before touching her arm.
“Tink?” Heather asked.
The girl threw herself into Heather’s arms and sobbed.
“Keep talking,” Sandy yelled from the bathroom.
“You’re all right,” Heather said. “You’re safe. Everything’s fine. Everything’s fine.”
Heather softly rubbed the girl’s back.
“Sandy’s making a bath for you,” Heather said. “She gets night terrors. She says that baths are the best thing to help get you back to the present and relax you. Would you like . . .?”
Tink pulled back in horror.
“I . . . I . . . Did I blow it?” Tink asked. “Are you going to send me back?”
“No way,” Heather said. “Not a chance.”
“Will Sandy tell Pan?” Tink’s eyes seemed luminous with horror.
“Sandy, are you going to tell Charlie about this?” Heather asked.
“Not a chance,” Sandy said. “This is private, girl to girl. Now come on, the bath’s almost ready.”
Heather helped Tink out of her nightdress and led her to the bathroom. Sandy helped her into the bath.
“Try to relax,” Sandy said. “Just feel the warm water. We’ll be right outside if you need anything.”
“I’m sorry,” Tink said. “I . . .”
“You have nothing to be sorry about.” Heather gave Tink a little nod, and pulled the bathroom door closed.
“Are you all right?” Sandy hugged Heather. They went into Heather and Blane’s bedroom to talk.
“I think so,” Heather said. “Do you think these are Tink’s seizures?”
“We’ll have to wait and see,” Sandy said. “I know they got a lot worse for me when I started liking boys.”
“You think . . .” Heather pointed to the bathroom. “And Charlie?”
“Remember how bad they were for me when I started dating Aden?” Sandy smiled.
Heather gave a little clap of her hands.
“You don’t feel bad that they might be happy and you don’t have a romantic boyfriend?” Sandy asked.
“You mean do I feel like my mom does?” Heather smiled.
Sandy nodded.
“No, I don’t feel jealous,” Heather said. “I feel excited for them. Plus, I have a really great life. I’m happy.”
Sandy smiled at Heather.
“I passed the test,” Heather said.
“You did,” Sandy said.
“Heather!” Tink called from the bathroom.
H
eather went to see.
“I saw the time,” Tink said. “Can we go to the party? I mean even though I . . .”
“Sure,” Heather said. “But you have to be in the bath for at least twenty minutes. I’ll get Mack up in a bit. We’ll go over after he’s awake.”
Heather closed the bathroom door and Sandy applauded.
“You’re a great mom, Heather,” Sandy said.
“Who’d have thought?” Heather beamed.
~~~~~~~~
Saturday morning—5:15 a.m.
Tanesha slipped out from under Jeraine’s arm and went into the bathroom. Her parents were on their way to Paris and Jeraine had to work all day. The only thing she had to worry about was studying for medical school. She felt almost giddy. The feeling evaporated when she saw the bald spot where the rapist had pulled out a clump of her hair. She made a sour face in the mirror, flushed the toilet, and went out into the bedroom.
Jeraine was sitting on the edge of the bed.
“I thought you were sleeping in?” she asked. Her speech slurred through the wire on her jaw.
“I wanted to talk to you first,” he said.
“I’ve got to study,” she said.
“I know,” he said. “I wanted to talk to you before you started work, and I started work and . . .”
“You can talk,” she said. She pointed to the closet to indicate that she would get dressed.
His eyes followed her naked form to the closet.
“I write a lot of songs about love,” Jeraine said. “A lot of songs about you and me and our love and . . .”
She turned to look at him while she pulled on underwear.
“I was moved by the service yesterday,” he said.
“I noticed,” she wiggled her eyebrows and he smiled. “Last night was fun.”
“Not just sex,” he said. “I mean the sex was great but . . . Ah shit.”
He shook his head and stalked to the bathroom. She sat down on the bed to pull on her boots. When he came out, she patted the bed. He sat down.
“What are you saying?” she asked.
“Last night, in the middle of everything, and when your Dad broke down . . .” Jeraine said. “I . . . just kinda understood something I didn’t before.”
Tanesha watched him search for words.
“Love, real love, like what you and I have, like what your parents have, my parents . . .” Jeraine said. “It’s sacred . . . from God or whoever. By whoring around, all the women and drugs . . . I make profane something godly . . . like sullying a holy gift from God. I definitely took the gift, married you, but then I mess up and . . .”
Tanesha reached for his hand. He held her hand close to his heart.
“Your Dad is a great man,” Jeraine said.
“So’s yours,” Tanesha said.
“I want to be a great man,” Jeraine said. “Worthy of the real gift of your love.”
Tanesha smiled.
“That’s it,” Jeraine said. “That’s all I wanted to say.”
“What are you going to do?” Tanesha asked. “It’s nice to say something. Anyone can say something. You have to do something, Jeraine!”
Jeraine gave her one of his ‘gotcha’ smiles. She shook her head at him, and he laughed.
“I’m going to do my work here,” Jeraine said. “I’m going to focus on my head therapy and my mind therapy and I’m going to love you. We'll do medical school together because I'll take care of you, love you, while you study. I don’t think I have to do a lot of things differently. I think I have to receive all that I’ve been given.”
Tanesha smiled.
“See, I’m not as thick as you thought,” Jeraine said.
Tanesha leaned forward, and he kissed her.
“I’m cutting my hair off and going natural,” Tanesha said.
“That’s your response?” Jeraine looked offended.
“No, that was a test,” Tanesha said. “To see if you were sincere about loving me or just being your old charming psychopathic Mr. It.”
“Did I pass?”
“Do you have some snide comment to make about my hair?” Tanesha asked.
Jeraine opened his mouth and then closed it. He shook his head.
“Then you passed.”
She kissed him.
“I love you, Jer,” she said. “I always have.”
“I love you, Miss T,” Jeraine said. “Did you hear your Mom and mine at the party? They said I couldn’t wait for you to be born.”
“I’d be your best friend,” Tanesha smiled.
“My mom said that when I learned you were a girl, I told her I was going to marry you,” Jeraine said. “I told her you would be the best thing that ever happened to me and you are.”
She smiled at him.
“I’ll make breakfast,” Jeraine said. “The extra bedroom is all set up for you to study. The guys will be here in an hour for breakfast, but you can just ignore us.”
She smiled.
“What?” he asked.
“I feel like I’m just starting my life,” Tanesha said. “My parents are safe and together. You’re off drugs, not whoring around, not in jail and even happy! With me!”
She smiled.
“I’m glad we’re still together,” he said.
“Me too,” she said. Her eyes glanced at the clock. “Is that the time? Oh goodness, I have so much to do!”
Without another word, she hopped up and jogged to the second bedroom. A few minutes later, he tapped on the door with her cup of tea. She opened the door, grabbed the mug, and closed the door in his face. Smiling, he went to shower.
Chapter Two Hundred and Twenty-Three
Harvest
Saturday morning—10:03 a.m.
Jill bit the cuticle on her right thumb and paced in front of her apartment door. Five steps to the window; turn; five steps to the wall. Back and forth, she paced.
Katy was outside with the Castle family at Yvonne and Rodney’s big party. She had peeked out the bathroom balcony to see that everyone from Lipson Construction seemed to be at the party. Yvonne and Rodney had been smart to head out early or they would still be here.
Jacob had stopped by the party early before heading into work. He, Aden and their CFO, Tres Sierra, had planned to spend the day working on summer’s end financials. The Site Managers were meeting around noon. The party would probably go until the Site Managers left.
Jill had to be upstairs.
Jill needed her rest.
Jill couldn’t go to the party because she was on bed rest.
She was so exhausted after the emotional ceremony that she hadn’t argued about coming up here or missing a party. She was doing the hard work of building babies and needed her rest.
That was before Honey needed her.
She didn’t know how she knew Honey needed her. She just did. She’d gained this “ability” when she became pregnant with her twins. And, for the record, the whole psychic thing sucked. Jill was at the place where she couldn’t wait to have two gloriously healthy boys, to be able to see her feet again, and to be rid forever of this psychic curse.
There was a tap on her apartment door. Jill stopped pacing, thought for a moment, and then opened the door. MJ was standing on the top landing of the stairwell. Unable to speak under stress due to his traumatic brain injury, he held out a sheet of paper with a message in Blane’s handwriting.
Blane asked me to come to get you. Honey needs help.
“H-h-h-on-n . . .” MJ looked so desperate that Jill hugged him.
“You get the water,” Jill said. “It’s too heavy for me to carry.”
MJ gestured that he would carry Jill.
“My brother’s right behind you.” Jill pointed. Mike was standing on the landing of the stairs. “If you carry the water, Mike can carry me.”
“A-a-a-n-n-n-y-y . . .”
“No,” Jill said. “I don’t need anything else. Mike will be there to help and so will Steve. If we need more help then we’ll call my Mom
.”
“Sh-sh-she’s . . .”
“Really?” Jill curled her lip. “She’s waiting with Sam and Delphie?”
“G-gr-r-a-an-n-n . . .”
“She’s there to see the birth of her grandchild?” Jill groaned. “But Honey’s not her daughter.”
“I-i-s-s-s n-n-n . . .”
“She’s adopted Honey too?” Jill asked. “Oh God, I hope that doesn’t mean she’ll be around for . . .”
Jill nodded behind MJ.
“Hi Mom,” Jill said.
“I heard that,” Anjelika said. “And you’d better believe I will be there. Your father too.”
MJ gave Jill a knowing look, and Jill scowled.
“Now be very careful, Mikhail,” Anjelika started.
“MOM!” Jill groaned.
Anjelika laughed.
“You have to come down for me to come up,” Mike said.
Jill started toward the stairwell.
“Not you,” Mike said.
“You can’t take the stairs!” Anjelika gasped.
“The soldier,” Mike said. “MJ come down.”
MJ turned in place and jogged down the stairwell. Mike came up and picked up Jill. He gave an exaggerated groan when she was in his arms.
“Jeez, are you gaining weight?” Mike asked.
Jill double tapped the top of his head, and he laughed.
“Come along,” Mike said. “We’re on baby duty.”
Mike carried Jill down the stairs, through the main kitchen where the caterers were working on food for the party, and up the stairs on the other side. They passed Delphie’s apartment and the one Mike shared with Valerie before coming to the entrance to what Valerie dubbed “The Birthing Zone.”
“You ready?” Mike asked in a low tone.
Jill gave a quick nod.
“You’ll let me know if it’s too much?” Mike asked in the same low tone.
Jill nodded, and he pushed the door open. They walked through a short hallway and into the office space. In the time since Valerie had her baby, the space had gone from a 1950s doctor’s office to a beautifully restored, clean, state-of-the-art medical office.
Mike set down Jill. MJ pointed to a stack of clean scrubs. Jill, Mike, and Anjelika dressed in scrubs as well. They followed MJ to the room where Honey was in labor. Honey was connected to a heart rate monitor for herself and the baby. Steve, Honey’s nurse and Jill’s brother, was moving an ultrasound wand around so they could see the baby on the screen. Camille, the midwife, was standing between Honey’s knees. Colin Hargreaves was standing at her head. Blane was moving around Honey to twist an acupuncture needle on her chest and remove one from her wrist. He looked up and smiled when they came in.
Silt, Denver Cereal Volume 8 Page 2
