by Nan Rossiter
John nodded and reached for her hand. “I’m glad you’re talking to me,” he said softly, “and if you don’t want to tell me the rest, it’s okay.”
Remy’s eyes glistened. “I do want to tell you the rest, it’s just so . . . hard.”
John put his arm around her and gently kissed the top of her head. “It’s okay,” he whispered, and as he pulled her close, the sound of an old-fashioned phone broke the silence. John pulled his arm away and reached into his pocket. “My phone,” he said apologetically. He glanced at the screen. “It’s Birdie,” he said in surprise.
“She has your cell number?”
“She does—she’s wanted to be able to reach me if something happened . . .” He frowned, wondering if something had happened. He slid the phone on. “Hello?”
Remy listened as he spoke. “Hi, Birdie, what’s wrong? . . . Oh no! Is he okay?” Remy sat up, searching his face, and leaned closer so she could hear what her sister was saying. “It’s David,” John whispered. “The Cialis? I don’t know . . . it’s not likely.... Oh, Birdie, I would meet you in a heartbeat if I was there, but I’m still in Vermont. I will call Josh, though, and have him go right to the hospital.... Josh—Dr. Hart—my new associate . . . Yes, he knows what he’s doing. . . . Of course, she’s right here . . . ?” He handed the phone to Remy.
“Is David okay? . . . Yes, please call us back.... We’ll be there as soon as we can,” she said, nodding. “Yes, we’re praying and we’ll leave right away.... Love you.” Remy handed the phone back to him. “She’s so upset. I told her we’d head right home.”
“Of course,” John said, looking at his watch. “But it’s nine o’clock, and even if we were leaving right this second, we wouldn’t get there until two or three in the morning.”
“I know, but what if David . . .” She couldn’t even say the words.
“You’re right,” he said, standing up. “I’ll call Josh, and then just knock on my door when you’re ready.”
Remy nodded. “I’m so sorry.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry about. David’s my oldest friend.”
CHAPTER 51
When Nat and Piper pulled into the driveway, Birdie was waiting on the porch. “Thank you for coming,” she said tearfully. “I’m sorry to be so needy lately.”
“Don’t be silly, Birdie,” Piper said. “What in the world happened?!”
“We were having a pizza and he suddenly started to have chest pains and I asked him if he wanted to go to the hospital, but before we could even get outside, he had collapsed.”
“I didn’t know David had heart problems,” Nat said.
“I didn’t, either. His blood pressure is always spot-on—unlike mine—and he’s never had high cholesterol.”
“Has he been feeling okay?”
“As far as I know. He was really upset when Bailey was missing, but we both were . . .”
“Does he take any medicine?”
“You sound like the EMTs,” Birdie said, shaking her head and looking out the window, her tears blurring her vision. She’d mentioned the Cialis to John, but he’d said he thought it was unlikely to have caused any harm . . . but, somehow, she still believed it had to be related. David was in perfect health, and it was the only thing that was different.
“I tried to call Sailor, but she didn’t answer her phone,” Birdie said, changing the subject.
“I’ll text her,” Piper said, reaching for her phone.
“I called John, too.”
“In Vermont?!”
“I forgot they were in Vermont.”
“What did he say?”
“They said they’d leave right away.”
Piper shook her head—it was a shame all this was happening the one time Remy had gotten up the courage to get away.
“I probably shouldn’t have called him, but I did honestly forget,” Birdie said regretfully.
“No, no,” Piper assured her. “You absolutely did the right thing.”
“I hope so. I just thought John would want to know and be here—he’s been David’s doctor . . . and friend forever.”
CHAPTER 52
Piper offered Birdie her arm, and Birdie took it as they hurried through the emergency room doors. “David Snow?” Birdie said in a voice choked with emotion.
The receptionist looked up. “I’m sorry . . . what was the name?”
“David Snow,” Piper said more slowly and clearly.
The receptionist looked at her computer screen. “Hmm . . . Snow . . . here he is. He just came in—cardiac arrest, right?” She looked up for confirmation and Birdie nodded. “It looks like he’s having some tests done. If you’d like to wait in the waiting room,” she said, pointing over their shoulders, “someone will come out and talk to you.”
“So, he’s still . . . alive?” Birdie asked in thankful disbelief.
The receptionist nodded and smiled. “Yes, he’s still alive.”
“Thank the Lord,” Birdie said, leaning heavily on Piper.
Piper guided Birdie to the waiting room, and moments later, Nat came in from parking the car and sat down next to them. “Any news?” he asked.
“They’re running some tests,” Piper said.
Nat nodded and squeezed her hand. “I called Elias but his phone went right to voice mail, so he must have it turned off to save the battery.”
“Probably,” Piper murmured. She watched Birdie pull a tissue out of her purse and dab her eyes, and for the first time in her life, she saw her sister as a stranger might see her. Usually, Birdie was very pulled together and classy, but tonight she looked like an old woman—worn and weary, as if life had gotten the best of her . . . as if the burden of another ounce of heartache would crush her. Piper put her arm around her sister and kissed the top of her head. “He’s going to be okay.”
Birdie nodded, mustering a feeble smile, and then looked out the window into the darkness. It was all her fault. She had, once again, brought tragedy upon them with her selfishness and lack of humility. To think she’d decided she’d had enough of being married . . . enough of David. Now she’d give anything just to have him back. A new hand had been dealt, she thought miserably, and all she could do was wait and pray.
It was almost eleven when Sailor peered around the doorway of the waiting room. “Oh my goodness. I’ve been trying to call you! How come you didn’t answer?”
Piper pulled her phone out of her pocket and looked at it. “Because there’s no service in here,” she said, standing to give her sister a hug.
Sailor looked around. “Is David okay? Where’s Birdie?”
“She just went to the ladies’ room. He’s alive—that’s all we know—we haven’t had an update. They were doing some tests but that was hours ago. We were hoping to hear something by now, but it’s been so busy—I think an ambulance pulls in every ten minutes!”
“Did Nat come, too?”
“He did but we never had supper so he just went out to get something.”
“I wish I’d known. I could’ve brought you something.”
“That’s okay. He’s bringing food back.”
She looked around again. “Do they have coffee here?”
Piper eyed her sister and frowned. “Have you been drinking?”
“Why?” she whispered. “Can you smell it?”
“Well, ye-ah . . . you smell like a winery.”
“Damn,” Sailor murmured. “Do you have a mint?”
“No, I ran out of the house with just my phone. Why were you drinking alone? Is Birdie rubbing off on you?”
“I always drink alone, but tonight I had a little more than usual because I talked to Frank.”
“You talked to Frank?”
“Yes. What a mistake that was.”
“Why? What happened?”
“He has invited the kids to Maine for the weekend.”
“This weekend?”
“No, next.”
“The Fourth?!”
“Yes . . . and I can�
��t believe they said yes. They know we always get together at your house.”
“Did you call Merry?”
“No, but I will. I just hate the idea of having to split up all the holidays now.”
Birdie emerged from the ladies’ room and when Sailor turned to give her a hug, she frowned. “Have you been drinking?”
“Yes, which is why I need a cup of coffee.”
“There’s a Keurig,” Birdie said, pointing to a small countertop with a coffeemaker and some cups.
“Perfect,” Sailor said and then turned back to search her sister’s face. “How are you holding up?”
“I’m holding, but I wish we’d hear something.” As she said this, there was a commotion in the lobby and two EMTs rushed through with a little boy on a stretcher. “Seven-year-old. Male. Near-drowning,” one of the EMTs called.
“Oh no,” Birdie whispered, catching her breath.
Sailor squeezed her hand reassuringly. “He will be okay,” she said, but Birdie didn’t seem to hear. “Birdie, look at me,” she said and Birdie turned from watching the stretcher that had just whisked by. “That boy will be okay,” Sailor repeated softly, nodding toward the now closed doors.
Birdie searched her sister’s eyes. “How do you know?”
“Because they said near-drowning.”
Birdie nodded, and although she was still shaking, she sat down, her thoughts returning to David.
It was midnight before the young doctor walked into the waiting room and looked around, his eyes stopping on Birdie. “Mrs. Snow?” he asked.
“Yes?” Birdie said, her heart suddenly pounding.
“I’m Dr. Hart,” he said, walking over to extend his hand.
“That’s a good name for a doctor,” Birdie said, standing up to shake his hand.
He smiled. “It’s not spelled the same way, but it serves me well.”
Birdie eyed the handsome young doctor’s smooth cheeks. “You don’t look old enough to shave, never mind be a doctor.” She felt a sudden jab in her side and looked over at Piper. “What? Does he look old enough to you?”
“How’s David?” Piper asked. “I’m Piper—his sister-in-law,” she said, extending her hand. “And this is Sailor—one of his other sisters-in-law.”
Dr. Hart shook both their hands and then turned back to Birdie. “Your husband has had a major coronary event caused by myocardial infarction . . . which, in layman’s terms, means he suffered a heart attack because he has blockage in one of the arteries and it’s preventing blood from flowing easily to his heart.”
“Will he be okay?” Birdie asked anxiously.
“He’s being prepped for surgery right now and the surgeon will be out to explain the procedure which will clear the blockage and insert a stent in the artery. It’s a very common procedure, and I expect your husband will come through it without any problems. Do you know if he has any allergies?”
Birdie shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
He nodded, jotting it on his chart.
“Any medications?”
“No,” Birdie said, hesitating. “But he did take something earlier this evening that he’s never taken before.”
The doctor looked up. “What was that?”
“Cialis,” Birdie said softly, hoping no one else would hear, but immediately, Piper raised her eyebrows and looked over Birdie’s head at Sailor.
The doctor nodded and jotted it on his chart.
“Do you think it’s related?” Birdie asked hesitantly.
“It’s hard to say. Cialis does increase blood flow, so it may’ve gotten things moving a little more in there, but sometimes a blockage is so imperceptible it goes undiagnosed for years, so finding it now because of the increased blood flow—although frightening—is actually a blessing. Especially since you were there.” He looked up. “Are you the one who gave him CPR?”
She nodded. “I tried.”
“You did a great job,” he said with a smile. “You probably saved his life.”
CHAPTER 53
At 4 a.m. Remy and John hurried into the emergency room and found Piper, Nat, and Sailor all dozing and Birdie watching Casablanca on the waiting room TV. When she saw them, she got up and gave them both hugs. “I’m sorry I ruined your weekend.”
“Don’t be silly,” Remy said.
“He just came out of surgery,” Birdie said, quickly updating them. “I didn’t call you back yet because there’s no service in here.”
Their conversation roused Piper and Sailor, who smiled sleepily and stood up to give hugs, too, but Nat seemed dead to the world.
“How was the reunion?” Sailor asked.
Remy looked at John and smiled. “It was fun.”
“That’s it?! ‘Fun’?” Sailor teased. “That’s all we get?”
“For now,” Remy said.
“Well, I’m going back to see how David’s doing,” John said, looking at Birdie, “and to see if we can’t get you back there, too.”
“Thank you,” Birdie said, “and thank you for coming home.”
He put his arm around her shoulder and smiled. “Anything for you.”
They all settled back into their chairs to wait, and Remy turned to Birdie. “So, what happened? What was David doing?”
“He was eating pizza,” Birdie said, “and he just started having chest pains.”
“And Birdie gave him CPR,” Sailor announced proudly.
“You did?! I would never be able to give CPR,” Remy said, shaking her head. “I would panic and just sit there and cry.”
“That’s pretty much what I did,” Birdie said, “but the emergency dispatcher guided me through it.”
“And the doctor said she probably saved his life,” Sailor added.
Remy smiled and gave her sister a hug. “That is truly something, Birdie.”
Birdie smiled. “I just did what I was told . . . for once.”
They laughed and then all eyes turned to Remy. “Well?” Sailor pressed. “Was it as awful as you expected?”
“Not at all,” Remy said. “We had a good time.”
“How was the reunion?” Piper asked.
“We only ended up going to one event—the dinner reception on Friday. There were other events on Thursday—which I didn’t realize because I didn’t read the packet, but as it turned out, one event was enough.”
“What did you do yesterday, then?” Birdie asked.
“We had breakfast at the inn—which was lovely—they have a dog that reminded me of Bailey.” When she said this, Sailor and Piper looked at each other but didn’t say anything. “And then, we went to a brewery for lunch, a winery, and hiking on the Robert Frost Trail.”
“What did you do for dinner?”
“We went out for pizza . . . because John had a craving,” she added, smiling at Piper. “And last night,” she added, turning to Birdie, “we were just sitting on the porch talking when you called.”
“It does sound like you had a good time,” Sailor said. “Especially the winery and the brewery.”
“Well, we had some excitement here, too,” Piper said, looking at Birdie.
“You mean more than David?” Remy asked.
Piper nodded. “Bailey took off Thursday night and got lost, and we spent all day Friday putting up posters and looking for her. We didn’t find her until Friday night.”
“Oh no! Poor thing!” Remy said, and then she frowned. “Hold on! If she took off on Thursday, how come no one told me? I was still home.”
“Because we thought you wouldn’t go,” Sailor said.
“I would’ve gone.”
“No, you wouldn’t have,” Nat murmured, opening one eye.
Piper elbowed him. “Have you been listening this whole time?!”
“Do you really think a person could sleep through all this?” he asked, and then grinned at Remy. “Hi, Remy.”
“Hi, Nat.”
Just then, John appeared and motioned for Birdie to follow him. Birdie walked down the hall be
side him, her heart pounding, and when she stood in the doorway of the ICU and saw all the tubes and monitors crisscrossing her husband’s body, she caught her breath. “Oh, dear Lord,” she murmured as tears filled her eyes, “please take care of him.”
“He’s going to be fine,” John assured her, “but he probably won’t wake up for a while. He needs rest.” He squeezed her shoulder. “I’ll leave you alone.”
Birdie nodded and walked tearfully over to sit next to David’s bed. She watched his heartbeat steadily blipping up and down on the monitor, and she listened to it beep every few minutes, checking his blood pressure and pulse. “Oh, David,” she whispered, “I’m sorry I’ve been such an old shrew. I can’t remember the last time I was actually cheerful around you—or anyone else, for that matter.” She shook her head. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I have so much to be thankful for and yet I go around being unkind and intolerant to everyone . . . but especially you.”
She reached for his hand—the strong hand she knew and loved so much—the hand that held tiny birds with the gentleness of a whisper; the hand that stroked Bailey’s head so lovingly; the hand that knew how to fix anything . . . and how to give wonderful back rubs. “Oh, David, if anything happens to you, I don’t know what I’ll do,” she said, her eyes blurry with tears. “I’m so sorry this happened, and I don’t care if we never make love again. I just need you by my side. We’ve been through so much together and you’re always the strong one, you’re always the one holding me up when I feel like I can’t go on.” She brought his hand to her lips and then rested it against her cheek. “Please get better so you can come home . . . because if you don’t,” she whispered in a voice choked with emotion, “Bailey will die of a broken heart . . . and so will I.”
PART III
She is clothed with strength and dignity;
she can laugh at the days to come.
—Proverbs 31:25
July 3, 1964
At the bottom of the steep wooden steps to the beach, they kicked off their sneakers and sandals and threw them in a pile. “Just like home,” Whitney said, shaking his head.
