A Wolff at Heart

by Janice Maynard

  Nikki had stepped back, but she prompted the dialogue. “What was the age difference in the two girls?”

  “Five years. My Tessa was nine when I moved us lock, stock and barrel to Charlottesville. Though I didn’t realize it at the time, she resented the upheaval, and even worse, she resented having her position as an only child usurped. By the time she was in high school, she had matured enough to love her little cousin, but it took a long time. And even though all of that is water under the bridge, Tessa occasionally exhibited traces of jealousy, even in the last years before she died.”

  “Was Tessa involved in any of what you’re about to tell us?”

  Pierce had a sudden vision of Nikki in a courtroom, carefully examining the witness. Her questions were right on target.

  Gertrude shook her head. “Not at all. But what I’m trying to explain is that my relationship with your mother was pure love. There were no hidden currents, no typical mother/daughter battles. She was affectionate and grateful and I adored her.”

  “Enough to commit a crime for her?” Pierce took a shot in the dark, and it hit its mark. Gertrude gaped and paled. He tasted bile. His stomach curled. Surely his aunt hadn’t stolen a baby.

  The old woman drank more water, and the room seemed to shrink as her story paused midstream. Finally, she spoke again. “I took an oath to do no harm,” she said wearily. “But there are moments in life when circumstances convene to create unbearable choices. I don’t think they ever told you, Pierce, but your parents thought they were unable to conceive. I loaned them tens of thousands of dollars for fertility treatments. But that was a long time ago, and the technology was not what it is now. Month after month, year after year, your dear mother tried and failed to get pregnant.”

  He shook his head. “No. They never told me.”

  “That kind of stress puts a strain on even the best of marriages. Your mother was distraught. Your father wanted to quit trying. They ended up in counseling, and then a miracle happened. She missed a period, had a pregnancy test and the celebrating began. You have no idea how euphoric they were. As a gift to the new child, I told them I didn’t want a penny of the money returned. It had been worth every check I wrote to see their faces, and I knew I would have more than enough money to leave Tessa when I was gone.”

  So far the narrative seemed harmless. But Pierce knew there was more. “Was the pregnancy difficult?”

  “Not at all. Your mother had been extremely careful with her health. I recommended the best ob-gyn at our hospital to care for her. Everything was perfect. The pregnancy and delivery were textbook. The only complicating factor was the story you’ve heard many times.”

  “About the flu epidemic?”

  “Yes. It decimated the hospital staff. In addition to having every bed filled, we were working at less than half capacity when it came to personnel. The night your mother went into labor, her doctor was at home with a temperature of a hundred and four degrees. Your mother begged me to deliver the baby, and of course I agreed. It’s hard to watch someone you love suffer through labor. Your mother had an almost superstitious aversion to any kind of medical assistance, so she opted for natural childbirth. She and your father had been to Lamaze classes. They were as prepared as two people can be who’ve never experienced birth.”

  “And there really were no complications?”

  “Other than a long labor, typical for first moms—no. She and your father were exhausted, though, and in the wee hours of the morning, they decided to let the baby go to the nursery so they could get some rest. It’s more common now for the baby to stay in the room with the mother the entire time, but back then, it was not at all unusual to send the baby out for hours at a time so new moms could have uninterrupted sleep.”

  He made himself ask the next question. “Were there other deliveries that night?”

  His aunt stared at him, her expression unreadable. “Yes, two. And I delivered them as well…a set of twins born about an hour after I had been with your mother. There was one other baby in the nursery, a little girl who had been born two days before. She was scheduled to go home the following morning. Because our load was light, and because several of my nurses had been working double shifts, I sent two of them home to rest. That left only one nurse and myself, but we agreed we could handle things until morning as long as no other women were admitted in labor. If that had happened, we would have called for reinforcements, of course.”

  She stopped talking, and her hands jerked uncontrollably for several seconds. Pierce stepped forward. “Aunt Trudie? Do I need to call someone?”

  Huge tears welled and overflowed and ran down her wrinkled cheeks. “No. Let me finish.”

  He was torn. This narrative was shredding him, nerve by nerve. What must it be doing to his aunt? He could stop her. Walk away. Let the past be the past. But his feet were like lead, his limbs unable to move. He was stretched on a rack of indecision, desperate to hear the end of the story, but equally desperate to flee from it.

  Overwhelmed with compassion for her pain, he went to her and kissed her soft white hair. “Go on, then. So we can be done with this.”

  Gratitude shone in her rheumy eyes. But also a dull acceptance of what could not be changed.

  He returned to his position at the window, shooting a glance at Nikki. Her cheeks were wet and the smile she gave him was lopsided at best. Even across the room, with the hospital bed between them, he felt the force of her caring and concern.

  Gertrude resumed her tale. He tensed, knowing that the end was not far off.

  She had a faraway look in her eyes, as if she had slipped into the past. “It was 3:00 a.m.,” she said. “My nurse was weaving on her feet. All four babies were sleeping. I told her to go into one of the empty rooms across the hall and close her eyes for an hour. I was hyped up on coffee and exhilaration for your parents.

  “Hospitals are seldom quiet, but that night, for one brief period, peace reigned. Seeing those precious children filled me with such deep joy. This was why I had defied my own parents and gone into medicine. Even though my independent ways had cost me my marriage, it was all worth it.

  “I checked the infants every fifteen minutes, particularly the newborns. But about four o’clock, one of them wasn’t breathing.”

  Goddamn it. Pierce could barely force words from his throat. “Which one? Tell me which one.”

  “Your mother’s child.”

  Everything in the room went black and there was a terrible roaring in his head. She didn’t say, you, Pierce. Duh. He was standing here alive and well. She said, your mother’s child. Not him. It had never been him. He was not an Avery.

  An infinite, terrifying fury welled in his chest. “What did you do, old woman? What in God’s name did you do?”

  He barely noticed Nikki’s gasp of consternation.

  Gertrude seemed barely breathing, her skin sallow, her cheeks sunken. “I did CPR. I was completely cool and calm. I knew the procedures. Knew exactly what I had to do. But the baby was dead. Already turning cold. I was going to have to walk down that hall, awaken your parents, and tell them that this precious child they had wanted so desperately was gone. But I couldn’t do it. I could not do it. Later, I realized that I was in shock, but at that moment, my mind seemed crystal clear. The couple in the room next to your mother’s had given birth to twins. They hadn’t even known they were expecting twins. We didn’t do ultrasounds back then, and it wasn’t all that uncommon for one twin to hide behind the other, meaning only one heartbeat was audible.”

  Pierce shook his head. “No, no, no…” This was some macabre horror movie, a terrible fiction.

  She continued in a monotone. “I asked myself…why should they have two healthy babies and your parents none? I looked at the lab work. The blood types were different, so I knew the boys were fraternal twins. It was all done in an instant. I switched the ba
bies in the bassinets, typed up two new bracelets to replace the ones I had to cut off, and it was finished. I summoned help per hospital procedure, and the chaplain went in to see the family who had lost a child.”

  “Not my parents…”

  “No. Their baby was alive and well. In the coming days, the hospital performed an autopsy as was policy in these situations. Your mother’s boy had been born with an irreversible heart defect. He could have actually died in the womb, but as it was, he lived for about six hours.”

  Pierce felt himself coming apart. In his head, he was taking Gertrude’s neck in his two big hands and choking her until the life was gone. The vision was so real it terrified him. He didn’t even know how badly he was shaking until he felt Nikki’s arms around him.

  She squeezed him tightly, murmuring to him, pressing her face to his chest.

  He returned the embrace automatically, unable to process what was happening. His mother adored this wicked old hag and Pierce wanted to kill her. He shuddered. No, that wasn’t true. He wasn’t that kind of man. But these feelings of anguish, God, these feelings. How could he go forward from here? What did he do with this information? Good God in heaven, what choice did he have?

  Suddenly, it dawned on him that the most important question had yet to be answered. He shook the bed rail angrily, startling Gertrude. “Who are my parents?” he yelled. “Who are they?”

  His aunt blinked once…twice…and she wet her lips. “Vincent and Delores Wolff.”

  * * *

  Nikki saw Pierce’s face and knew he was beyond logical reasoning. She took his arm. “We need to go now. We’ll come back when you’ve had some time to think this through.”

  He flung off her hand. “I’m not coming back,” Pierce said, his tone incredulous. “Why would I subject myself to more of this?” His pupils were dilated and he was dragging in deep breaths and exhaling as if he had been running a marathon.

  It was a toss-up as to who looked worse, Pierce or his great-aunt. Gertrude had slumped sideways against the pillows, and though she was breathing steadily, she didn’t appear to know where she was.

  Nikki coaxed him toward the door. “We’re going back to the hotel,” she said, infusing her voice with authority. “Come with me.”

  That he followed her was a surprise, but he had withdrawn to a place where nothing in the real world impinged on his consciousness. She led him like he was a blind man, steering him into and out of elevators and praying he wouldn’t make a scene while they were in a public building.

  She was worried about Gertrude, but the woman was hooked up to monitors, so surely someone would notice if she was having difficulties.

  Once they reached the car, Nikki took the keys from Pierce’s pocket and made him get in on the passenger’s side. When they arrived at the hotel, front desk personnel looked at them oddly, but no one interrupted their progress.

  One more elevator ride, and then finally, they were back at Pierce’s door. “Give me your billfold,” she said. When he stared at her blankly, she dug in her purse for her own key card, opened the door and went through to Pierce’s room from her side.

  She pushed him into a chair and poured him a glass of water. He was sweating, and his skin looked gray beneath his tan. “What am I going to tell them?” he asked, his tone desolate. “How do I tell them their baby died?”

  Nikki crouched in front of him, her hands on his knees. “You’re still their son, Pierce. They are not losing you. They are not losing you.”

  Her words made no apparent dent in the haze of pain that engulfed him. Her own throat ached from the effort to hold back tears. Feeling helpless and alone and totally unprepared to do anything to ease his misery, she found herself pacing the room while he sat, statuelike, where she had placed him.

  When her legs grew tired, she sat on a chair opposite him. After an hour passed, she spoke softly to him until he followed her to the bed. She folded back the covers and made him lie down. Putting out the do not disturb sign and drawing the drapes, she curled up beside him and slept.

  * * *

  Pierce opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. His chest hurt, and his head felt oddly empty. He couldn’t remember where he was, and that alarmed him so much, he sat up in the bed. Then he saw her…Nikki. And everything came flooding back. A howl of agony rose in his lungs, his throat, but he clamped his teeth shut to keep it in. Already he had made a fool of himself in front of Nikki. She’d handled him like a baby when he had checked out of reality for a time.

  He felt physically sluggish and mentally slow, as if he had been in a car accident and suffered a head injury. That had happened to him once. He’d been unconscious for almost two days. His parents had kept a vigil by his bedside until he awoke. His parents. The man and woman who raised him. But no, they were not his parents. Their baby died.

  Feeling for some point of human contact, he took Nikki’s free hand. The other one was tucked beneath her cheek as she slept. Still dressed in what she had worn to the hospital, she looked exhausted and not at all comfortable.

  Pierce held her hand in the semi-dark room and tried to make a plan. He was a grown man. Used to being in charge of a business. Accustomed to making decisions and looking out for multiple groups of people who trusted him to make sure their outdoor experiences were both safe and fun.

  But it was as if someone had turned off a switch in his brain. What did he do now? Check out? Go home? He couldn’t imagine returning to the hospital. The very thought of it filled him with revulsion. A compassionate person should be able to forgive an old woman for an ancient wrongdoing. But he couldn’t. He wouldn’t. Some sins were too heinous for absolution.

  Gradually, one thing became clear to him. Even if he was the proverbial rudderless ship in a storm, he was not going to drag Nikki down with him. And he was not going to be some pathetic figure who needed hand-holding and TLC. He was a man. And it was about time he started acting like one.

  It took every ounce of mental fortitude he could muster to make himself get out of bed, grab a couple of things from his suitcase and stumble into the bathroom. He closed the door quietly, not wanting to wake Nikki. Every time she looked at him with those big, liquid blue eyes, he felt naked and raw, and he couldn’t deal with that now.

  In the shower, he turned the dial to just below scalding, trying to wash away the stench of hospital smells and the memories that clung to him like cobwebs. Out, out damned spot. Shakespeare knew a thing or two about this condition. And the need to purge the past. The hot water was restorative, but no matter how long he stood beneath the spray, his insides were cold.

  The only other clean shirt he’d brought was a cheery yellow with a blue stripe. He winced, seeing himself in the mirror. Funeral clothing would have been more appropriate. Somber and dark to match his mood.

  He cut himself shaving. His hands couldn’t seem to hold the razor steady. But finally, he was finished. He was ready. The first thing on his list could be checked off. Get out of bed and pretend like you’re in charge.

  Perhaps if he acted out the fiction long enough, it would begin to be true.

  When he returned to the bedroom, Nikki was still asleep. He sat in a chair and watched her. With no place to go and no particular timetable, he wasn’t in a hurry to face the remainder of the day. So he sat in the dark and brooded. Gradually, memories of his aunt’s halting narrative began to be replaced by memories of the night before.

  Nikki’s face alight with laughter. Nikki, eyes closed, hands clenched in the sheets as he made her come. Nikki, calling out his name as he entered her and moved inside her. Given her past, it was a miracle she was not an embittered woman. Instead, she was generous to a fault with her emotions and her passion.

  The thought that she might be moving away from him in a few weeks was a sharp spike to the heart. She had come into his life when he was at his weakest mo
ment. Though he had not always deserved it, she’d given him empathy, sympathy and the benefit of her wisdom and experience.

  He knew, sitting here in this dark, anonymous hotel room, that she was the kind of woman with whom he could make a life. But Nikki had strong ideas about things, and Pierce knew instinctively that she would expect him to follow a path he wasn’t prepared to tread.

  Physically, Pierce was prepared for any challenge. He was at the peak of his capabilities. His body was in perfect condition. Heart rate, muscle mass, endurance. Whatever life threw at him, whether it was negotiating a river, climbing a mountain or trekking on foot through the wilderness, he was ready.

  But not for this. Never for this. He was angry and confused and hurt. Unfortunately, he couldn’t let Nikki see the extent of his crippling mental turmoil. She’d want to help him and fix him and save him, and that was unacceptable. A man was supposed to clear his own trail.

  It was a long time before she woke up. By then he was actually beginning to feel hungry. She sat up and stared at him, her gaze wary. “Are you okay?” she asked, clearly thinking he wasn’t.

  He shrugged. “Okay enough. If you don’t mind, as soon as you’ve had a chance to freshen up, I’d like to check out and head home. We can grab something to eat on the way.”

  Confusion colored her face. “But what about the hospital?”

  “No need to go back. We got what we came for. I need to check in at work.”

  “You said your assistant manager had things covered.”

  “Doesn’t mean I’m not still the boss.”

  “And Gertrude?”

  He heard the unspoken questions, but ignored them. “She’s receiving excellent care. No reason for us to hang around.”

  “But—”

  He held up his hand. “I’m starving, Nikki. Let’s get out of here.”