by Judy Baer
I miss Whitney—the way she scratches behind my ears and at the base of my tail, the silly way she wraps me up in a blanket and dances me around the house, how she talks to me and tells me her troubles. I’m a very good listener. Everything she says to me, I keep completely confidential. I wish she’d come back. I’d listen to her for hours. I hate to admit it, and I would never tell another living soul, but I’m lonesome.
Mr. Tibble, signing off.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Thursday, December 30
Weeping may linger for the night, but joy comes in the morning.
I’ve been hanging on to that verse like a shipwrecked sailor to a plank in the ocean.
Day and night are meaningless here, in the artificially lighted hallways, and the cafeteria deep in the basement of the hospital and behind the curtained windows of Chase’s room. Dr. Steele made arrangements for me to continue to sleep in the windowless but adequate room I’ve been in since Chase came into the hospital five days ago.
Five long, terrifying, endless days.
I’m only able to see Chase sporadically. He sleeps a lot, and visits to ICU are limited. Most of what I’ve done is wait and pray.
God and I have been discussing my shameful lack of faith at the height of Chase’s crisis. It is stunning to me how quickly the solid roots of my faith were undermined by doubt and fear. I’ve learned that God is a lot more willing to forgive me than I am to forgive myself.
The baby and I have gotten to know each other well during these hours spent together with no other distractions. I know what time it gets restless and begins to roll like a log in a lumberjack competition. I feel it stretch, and can occasionally see a little hand or foot pressing under my skin. It likes to be up at night when I’m trying to sleep and to sleep during the day when I’m awake, an omen of sleeping patterns to come. Baby reads me like a book and mirrors my emotions with remarkable accuracy. When I’m agitated, we’re both agitated. When I’m composed, the baby is calm.
And I’m most calm when I’m at Chase’s side.
“Hey, darling, it’s Whitney and company, here to visit.” I approached Chase’s bed cautiously, avoiding the machines and wires that are everywhere, looping around stands and tables and over the head of his bed.
He opened his eyes, and a faint smile tipped the corners of his lips. “Hey,” he murmured, and weakly lifted his hand. That’s my signal to move closer, so that he can put his hand on my ever-enlarging stomach. The baby, smart already, seems to know when and where to kick—right beneath Chase’s outstretched palm. Chase smiled and closed his eyes again.
He’s terribly weak, and sleeps most of the day, but he’s alive. That’s all that matters.
Dr. Steele walked into the room studying Chase’s chart. It has grown uncomfortably thick in the past week.
“Hi, Whitney. Glad you’re here. You are better medicine for this guy than anything I have to give him.”
I looked at the tangle of wires and monitors. “You have some pretty powerful remedies. Are you sure?”
Steele smiled at me. “For this part of the recovery, yes.”
When he was done examining Chase, Dr. Steele beckoned me out into the hall.
“How do you think he’s doing, Whitney?”
“He still scares me. He’s weak as a kitten.” Scram could take him on—and win.
“It’s to be expected.” The doctor looked at me appraisingly. “We almost lost him, you know.”
I shivered, and the baby grew restless within me. I know that all too well.
“It will be a slow recovery process. I expect to move him out of intensive care soon, but he’s going to be in the hospital for a while yet.”
“Whatever it takes. I’m getting rather used to the food and lodging here myself. You really need to do something about the coffee in the waiting rooms, though. Talk about toxic waste.”
“Yes, well—” Dr. Steele frowned “—that’s something else I want to talk to you about. You are in the countdown to your own delivery. When’s your baby due? Early February?”
“I feel as if I’ve been pregnant so long that it’s a permanent condition.”
“You’ve been under a lot of stress. I’ve worried more than once this week that we’d have Chase in ICU and you in the delivery room. I don’t want you staying here at the hospital 24/7 anymore. It’s too hard on you.”
“It’s harder on me to be apart from Chase.”
“That was true this past week, but now it’s time we start taking care of you.”
“I don’t want better care. I’m fine. I just want to be with Chase.”
“You can be with him during the day, but no more staying here at night. You need a break from the hospital and a bed with a mattress that feels like it’s been stuffed with coconuts.”
I couldn’t help but smile. “So you’ve used that bed a time or two yourself.”
“I mean it, Whitney. Visit Chase, but rest at home.”
“But—”
“Not ‘buts’ about it. I’ll tell Chase it’s my decision, and he, at least, will thank me for it.” Dr. Steele glanced at his wristwatch. “Now I’d better get going. Call me the bad guy if you must, but sleep in your own bed tonight.”
When I returned to Chase’s room, the head of his bed was rolled up and a nurse was trying to cajole him into drinking some juice. He’s lost almost fifteen pounds in the past few days, but it only makes his features more sculpted. After an ordeal like his, I’d look like a shipwreck, and yet he’s more handsome than ever. Is there no justice? Apparently not.
“Do you want me to take over?” I offered.
As I held the juice glass to his lips, Chase studied me. “What’s wrong?” His blue eyes sliced through me like an X-ray.
“I see the illness didn’t damage your perceptiveness,” I said grumpily. “Dr. Steele told me I shouldn’t stay at the hospital twenty-four hours a day anymore. I want to be near you at night, but…”
“Good.” His voice was soft but firm.
“Et tu, Brute? Are you all ganging up on me?”
Because of the weakness in his voice, I had to lean close to Chase to hear him. “Whit, I don’t want you to deliver early. That’s what Steele is worried about. Take care of yourself, will you?”
Returning home after so many days away was a strange experience. Although Mom and Dad had taken down the Christmas tree, cleaned the refrigerator and put fresh sheets on the bed, when I walked in the door the first thing I saw in my mind’s eye was Chase, lying on the bed, writhing in agony.
Thankfully, Kim followed me into the house to put my things on the kitchen table. She opened the refrigerator to peer inside. “Mitzi and I went grocery shopping so you wouldn’t come home to empty cupboards. Want a soda, or some carrot sticks?”
“What? No chocolate? Is Mitzi sick?”
“I think she’s healthy as ever. Come and look.”
Inside my refrigerator was a chocolate cheesecake drizzled with fudge and a large jar of chocolate ice-cream topping.
“I hope she isn’t eating as much chocolate as she was earlier,” Kim said bluntly. “Now Mitzi could stand to lose a few pounds.”
Last time she’d come to the hospital, my father had escorted her in and out, afraid that if he didn’t, she’d roll down the steps like a beach ball. Mitzi, of course, didn’t worry at all. She says she’s been doing double duty at the mall to build her strength.
Mr. Tibble here.
Oh, rapturous joy! Oh, wonderful delight! My heart leaps with gladness. I am the lion in the Serengeti, the King of Beasts. My belly is full of wondrous sweet meat and my place in the household has been restored. Never again will I take my gifts for granted or disdain their origins. I roll in the silky depths of my luxurious retreat, the bed of my repose. I stretch my body to its full capacity and relish in the perfect workings of my bones. I will dine on caviar and be showered with rose petals. Even my underling will benefit from my munificent spirit. I dance on the air, leaping from mount
ain peak to mountain peak in an elegant ballet. My body, like my spirit, soars. I am whole again, no longer ripped asunder from the most tender, most vulnerable part of my being. My heart sings. I croon love songs night and day. I am replenished. I am loved. All is well, all is well.
Mr. Tibble, signing off.
P.S. My pet is home. She has fed me all my favorite treats and scratched my belly as we lay together on her bed. She has not even scolded me for jumping on her furniture or serenading her in the night. I didn’t realize how much I would miss her. I am happy again, but I must never let her know how much I care. Aloofness, independence and disdain, that’s my game. I think I will see if she will scratch my tummy just a little more, however, before I start ignoring her.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Friday, December 31, New Year’s Eve
All Mitzi’s worrying about what she’d wear for New Year’s Eve turned out to be wasted energy. Instead of throwing a party, she was the centerpiece at one.
“I don’t want you to stay here tonight,” Chase said. “That’s no way to start the New Year. Go out and have some fun. You are invited to Mitzi and Arch’s place, aren’t you?”
“Mitzi wasn’t at work Thursday or Friday. Maybe it’s all off. Besides, I want to be with you. Last week I almost lost you—” The words stuck in my throat.
He took my hand in his. “All the more reason to go out and have some fun.” His lopsided grin was reassuring. The old Chase is coming back.
“I don’t want to leave you, even for a minute. They are too precious to waste.”
“Then don’t waste them by watching me sleep. Go with Kim and Kurt to Mitzi’s, and tell me about it in the morning.” He tipped his head. “It would make me happy, Whitney. Go. Please?” He passed his hands over his eyes. “I’m tired, honey. Let me sleep. Go have some fun.”
“I’ll go, but under protest.”
He nodded, and I noticed his eyes were already drooping.
“And I refuse to have fun without you. So there.”
Perhaps I wouldn’t have fun even if I’d wanted to, I realized, when Arch met Kim, Kurt and me at the door to explain what had happened.
Harry and everyone else from the office were already standing in the foyer Mitzi had decorated with Sherwood Forest. There were more evergreen trees in her foyer than in a three-block radius from the house. Each was decorated in sparkly white snow, crystal icicles and iridescent snowflake ornaments. Rotating lights turned the trees from green to red to yellow to blue, much like the lighting on those retro aluminum trees that all my loft-living friends are crazy over. Amazing. A Christmas disco, right in Mitzi’s entry.
“She went to the doctor today,” Arch said apologetically, “and he said that she has to be on bed rest until the babies arrive. She told him she’d go to bed tomorrow, after New Year’s Eve, but he wouldn’t hear of it. She’s upstairs right now….”
“It’s fine, Arch,” Harry said. “Don’t worry about it. Those babies are more important than a New Year’s Eve party.”
“No, that’s not it. Mitzi still wants to go on with the party.”
“Nonsense,” Harry blustered. “We’ll go out. There must be somewhere that isn’t completely booked this evening. We’ll find a place….”
Right. Maybe at Krispy Kreme or White Castle. They don’t usually fill up on New Year’s Eve.
“But the food is here, and she hired a harpist.”
A harpist? Leave it to Mitzi.
“But how can you manage a party with Mitzi in bed?” Betty blurted.
“I’ve moved things upstairs. We’ll have the party in our bedroom.”
Fortunately, Mitzi’s bedroom is not like my bedroom, which is nicely full with a bed, two nightstands, a chest of drawers and a chair. Mitzi’s bedroom is a stadium, and she’s head cheerleader.
Arch led us upstairs, where the lilting sounds of “Oh, Tannenbaum” hung in the air. For this occasion, their bedroom’s double doors had been flung wide to reveal the vast space—the size of some apartments—and the pièce de résistance, Mitzi, sitting in the middle of a king-size bed, propped up with pillows and wearing a red velvet maternity dress that, with stakes and supports, would have made a lovely tent. Even Mitzi, with her designs for mothers of multiples, has been taxed creatively trying to figure out ways to look lovely with an eighty-five-inch waist.
“Welcome, welcome! Happy New Year!” She greeted us from the bed, “I’m so glad you could come. Appetizers, anyone?”
And for the rest of the evening, we almost forgot that we were partying in someone’s bedroom, with a bed-bound hostess who insisted on bossing everyone around, pointing and giving directions by waving a paste-jewel-bedecked wand left over from a Halloween party she’d once attended as Glinda, Good Witch of the North.
“Your hair looks great,” I commented as I sat at the foot of Mitzi’s bed and ate antipasto, jumbo shrimp and chocolate-dipped strawberries.
“I had it done before I went to the doctor.” She scowled. “I can’t believe he sent me to bed. I feel fine.”
“Maybe he doesn’t want you to hurry the babies along. All the weight can’t be easy on your legs, either.”
“My legs are fabulous,” Mitzi retorted testily. “At least they were the last time I saw them.” She sighed. “I miss my feet. I haven’t seen them in so long that, once the babies are born, I’m afraid I might not recognize them.”
“This motherhood thing is tougher than it looks, isn’t it?”
“At least I don’t have to worry about Arch’s health. How’s Chase?”
“Better. Dr. Steele warned us it would take time to get back to normal. Chase is a stubborn man, though. He’s not going to be satisfied until he’s back to his old self.”
At that moment, Harry came up to us with a plate of food piled high with meatballs, cheese cubes and potato chips. “So, when do you think you’ll be back to work, Mitzi?”
We both stared at him, the picture of denial, eating meatballs off a toothpick.
“Harry, have you actually looked at Mitzi lately?” I asked.
He eyed her. “She’s hard to miss.”
“Do you think a woman in her condition will be ready to go back to work anytime in the near future?”
Harry stared at her longingly, obviously trying to think of some way he could reduce Mitzi to a more manageable size. “No…”
At that moment, Kim scrabbled onto the foot of Mitzi’s bed with me. It’s a good thing petite Mitzi has a penchant for oversize furniture. “I have the best news to tell you! I was going to wait until midnight and make it the first official announcement of the new year, but I can’t wait any longer.”
She clapped her hands together and radiated happiness that I could virtually feel three feet away. “Kurt and I got the word. We’re heading for China next week! The information about our baby, a little girl, came today.
“They sent photos,” Kim babbled. “She’s so incredibly beautiful. You just won’t believe it. Her mouth is a perfect pink bow, and…” Tears began to roll down her cheeks. “I’m already in love.”
Our squeals of delight drew everyone else to the bed.
We managed a group hug, Kim, Mitzi and I. Not easy, considering it now involves seven people. I’m really going to like it when my arms are long enough to reach past my abdomen again.
“How long will you be gone?” Betty asked.
“A month, maybe. We don’t know for sure. We’ll bring her home as soon as we can, but the wheels of government turn slowly.”
“A month?” Harry whimpered, but we ignored him.
“Tell us more,” Betty demanded. “We want to hear everything.”
Everyone else gathered around Kim, but Harry grabbed me by the sleeve and pulled me into a corner, his expression distraught. “You know what this means, don’t you? You can’t have your baby until Kim returns from China. A temp can handle Mitzi’s work, but you’re irreplaceable! Just plan to put the baby on hold till Kim gets back.”
“
Harry.” I laid my hands on the large shelf I’ve grown. “Babies don’t work that way. You can’t put them on hold. If Kim is back in a month, we should be okay, but if my baby comes early…”
He paled.
Poor Harry. He hates reality.
“It can’t come early!”
“You’re talking to the wrong person.” I pointed to my belly. “Tell it to the one who’s in charge of that. Talk to the tummy, Harry. Talk to the tummy.”
Harry moped off like a little boy who couldn’t get his own way, but the rest of the celebration went into full swing at Kim’s news. At midnight, Mitzi decreed that we would all wear party hats and blow on noisemakers. Her New Year’s hat was shaped like a crown and decorated with glitter that shed all over her bed. How fitting.
“Happy New Year?” Harry sputtered as the din died away. “How can it be, when everyone is abandoning ship?”
“The Innova ship will keep sailing, Harry. I’m covering the arrangements. I’ll get you a new crew.”
“I don’t want a new crew. I want you,” he said, pouting. “I want the old, weird crew that I already have.”
Wednesday, January 5
I said goodbye to Kim and Kurt at the airport and watched their plane taxi down the runway and lift into the sky. It’s hard to imagine that when they return, they will be new parents to an adorable baby girl. Kurt’s sister Elaine was at the airport, too. She’s the lucky one who inherited Wesley for the month his parents will be gone.
I might have taken him to my place if I weren’t pregnant and didn’t have a very weak husband at home demanding much of my time.
“Bye-bye, Wes, darling. Come see Auntie Whitney soon, okay?”
Wesley, who was entranced by a toy airplane Kim had purchased for him in the gift shop, looked up at me. “Go to your house now?”
