“Juliana Marie, uh, DeLuca.” That was close. She’d almost said Donato.
“Lovely name for a lovely little girl. Here, let me hand her to you. Now, be sure to hold her head and neck just so.”
Dorrie listened intently and followed instructions on how to support the baby’s head while holding her.
Through the pain and exhaustion, she couldn’t help but look down and smile at her bawling red-faced infant. “It’s all right, honey. Mommy’s here.”
The baby stopped crying, as if sensing her mother held her. In this special moment, Dorrie’s heart swelled with love. She couldn’t believe this was her daughter. She ignored a tiny voice inside of her saying she shouldn’t be happy because the father wasn’t Larry. Her baby was an innocent who couldn’t help who’d fathered her.
The nurse asked, “Did you want to room-in with the baby, or send her to the nursery so you can get some rest?”
Dorrie’s arms instinctively tightened around her child. She’d not give her up without a fight.
The response was met by an understanding look. “I see my answer. Lots of mothers feel that way. What about breast feeding? If you’d like to try, I can give you instructions on how to get started.”
If it were Larry’s child and all were normal, she’d be thrilled to bond closer with her daughter, but given the circumstances, doing so was out of the question. She’d already risked Juliana’s safety by being on the pill since conception.
“No, thank you, I’m doing formula.”
The nurse nodded. “Well then, I’ll get a kit with instructions, some formula, and a bassinet for the room.”
“Thanks, oh, before you leave, could you find out where my purse is?”
“That’s no problem. The emergency room nurse placed it right at the foot of your bed. I’ll put it next to you.”
As soon as the nurse had left, Dorrie zipped open her handbag to make sure nothing had been removed.
Fortunately, everything appeared intact, including the pills and the cash she’d brought, plus her safe phone and the driver’s license showing her true identity hidden on the bottom. The sight reminded her that a birth certificate would need to be done at some point, reflecting the fake names she’d provided.
She didn’t care for the notion of her little one’s coming into the world under false pretenses, but that would be better than having her whisked away to a public agency and Mom carted off to jail.
Also, when the forms were filled out, the paternity line would stay blank, since establishing Roman as the father would afford him dangerous rights.
She didn’t want to think of any of that now, not with so many other matters to work out. Her head swam from trying to concentrate while in the throes of pain and exhaustion. Having a baby wasn’t easy by any means. Whoever thought it was had to be a man. She grimaced at her sad attempt at humor.
The nurse reappeared. “I hope you don’t mind my saying so, but you look kind of done in. Let me put the baby in the bassinet right by the bed so you can get some rest. She won’t be far.”
Though her spirit was willing to continue bonding with her infant, Dorrie’s body was weak, and she gratefully relinquished Juliana to the care of the nurse.
She barely had time to whisper, “Goodnight, little one,” before sleep claimed her.
***
Dorrie blinked as morning sunlight streamed through the room. Where was she? Why did she hurt so much, especially in embarrassing areas? The sound of a child gurgling near the bed oriented her. What time was it? How long had she slept?
A glance at her watch revealed half past ten, meaning a good part of the morning had elapsed. She’d been about to call Steve last night when sleep had overcome her. He had to have been worried sick when he’d not found her at Buffalo Park or the alternate site. She better put his mind at ease.
Before she could reach for the cell, a nurse stepped into the room, this one older and plumper than the one from the night before. Again Steve would need to wait.
“I can’t believe I slept so long,” Dorrie said.
“Not surprising. You did a lot of work last night.”
“It was worth it,” Dorrie said, casting a proud look at her daughter swathed in pink in the bassinet. The nurse nodded. “I agree. Your child is adorable.”
Understanding why so many mothers carried baby pictures in their wallets, Dorrie beamed with pride.
“I’d heard you elected formula, so I fed the little one while you slept, but she’ll be wanting more by now,” the nurse said.
“Amazing. I didn’t even wake up when you came in to feed her.”
“Not unusual. You’re only human. Bodies do need rest, you know. I’ll get you some formula and a pamphlet so we can walk through the steps together. I’ll be right back.”
Dorrie had just enough time to gulp down her young pill before the nurse reappeared.
“Shall we get started?” the woman asked.
It turned into a sloppy endeavor. “I think I’m getting more on my baby’s face than inside of her,” she said with a laugh.
“Don’t worry, you’ll catch on.”
After the feeding was done, as well as the accompanying burping and diaper changing, the nurse left Juliana in Dorrie’s arms.
“Hi, sweetheart, it’s Mommy,” Dorrie said, gazing with awe at her daughter.
She’d been too tired yesterday to get a good look at Juliana, except for making sure she was okay. Now she couldn’t help but notice the daintiness of her child’s wispy blond hair, and how her complexion had morphed from squalling red to a delicate crème, with faint blue veins showing on her cheeks and forehead.
Juliana’s blue eyes seemed to spark with intelligence as they gazed intently back at her mother. Dorrie had read blue eyes were usual for babies, and after six months might change to another color. Whatever color they’d turn into, one thing she knew for certain. Without a doubt, this had to be the most beautiful child in the world.
The nurse stepped back in and caught the exchange. “She knows who her Mommy is,” she said with a smile. Whether or not it was true, Dorrie’s insides warmed at the thought. She’d feared the worst, but thank goodness it hadn’t happened.
Though she would have loved Juliana no matter what her infirmities or features, thank God nothing untoward had surfaced. Against all odds, her child had come through unscathed, and hopefully would remain so. The three month waiting period would be an ordeal. For the first time in her child’s life, the filtered young pill would not be running through her bloodstream. What outcome would the withdrawal present?
The nurse appeared, interrupting Dorrie’s anxious musings. After the blood pressure and vitals were read, the nurse held her hands out for Juliana. “I’ll bring her back shortly. In the meantime, the doctor would like to examine you.”
As soon as he’d finished looking over the incision and surrounding areas, the nurse reappeared to place Juliana back beside her mother in bed.
The doctor smiled. “You and the baby are coming along nicely. I’ll be back again tomorrow morning, at which time I expect to discharge you.”
“Thank you, doctor. I’d like that.”
Finally, Dorrie and her baby were alone. She grabbed her cell and wasn’t surprised to notice five voice mails awaiting her. After hearing the first, she quickly dialed Steve’s number. “It’s Dorrie. I’m all right.”
“Thank goodness. I was scared something had happened to you”
“Something happened all right, but it was a good thing. Mother Nature chose yesterday to bless me with a darling baby girl. Right now I’m at Xavier Hospital. We’re both healthy and scheduled for release tomorrow, barring complications.”
“That’s wonderful, Dorrie. I can’t wait to see your baby. If she looks anything like you, she’ll be a real beauty.”
“She, yes. Me, no. I don’t look too terrific at the moment with this cheap dye on my skanky black hair and my death warmed over face. Having a baby is hard work. Anyway, she’s worth t
he sacrifice.”
“I’m sure she is. I’m glad everything worked out okay. What time should I pick you up?”
“How about ten? The doctor should be through examining us by then, and everything should be set for us to roll on out. If there’s any problem, I’ll call you. Oh, by the way, I’m Laurie DeLuca. You better be someone else too, and wear a wig.”
“No problem. I’ll have Harry Manning pick you up. He may look different than you’d expect.”
She laughed. “Nothing would surprise me anymore. I can’t wait to see him. Oh, and tell him thanks.”
The day passed swiftly, as mother and baby got better acquainted, with Dorrie discovering her daughter possessed an excellent set of lungs. Toward evening, an office worker appeared, quizzing Dorrie about how to fill out the discharge papers. Again, Dorrie felt a pang. She hated lying about Juliana’s true parentage, but knew it couldn’t be helped.
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
Bright and early the next morning, Juliana got whisked away for further tests, and was returned to her bassinet. Next, the doctor stopped in to examine Dorrie. When he’d finished, he smiled. “You’re both set to go. Remember, you need to take it easy to prevent hemorrhaging. Also, be sure to report to your gynecologist and a pediatrician.”
“Thanks, doctor. I’ll do that.”
Not likely she’d follow through with Dr. Lewanthal or anyone suggested by him, but no sense mentioning that. She’d find new doctors as soon as she got situated.
Dorrie hobbled over to the closet and pulled out the flannel shirt and baggy pants she’d worn on arrival. With some difficulty, she changed clothes, then sank onto the easy chair beside the bed. The gray haired nurse came by. “I hear you’re released. Have you arranged for someone to pick you up?”
“He’ll be here at ten.”
The nurse raised her eyebrows quizzically, but didn’t ask why no one had visited Dorrie in the interim. The baby decided to let out a wail of hunger, saving her mother from suffering further embarrassment.
“I’ll leave you to feed your child. In the meantime, I’ll get the goody bags for you to bring home and make sure the papers are in order. When your ride gets here, remember, it’s protocol that I wheel you out. Most mothers enjoy that bit of pampering anyway, before going home to the real world.”
Nervousness warred with excitement as Dorrie pondered the implications of leaving the hospital. No one seemed to have recognized her here, but outside would be a different matter. Still, she was anxious to begin her new role as mother. Hopefully, she’d live up to the challenge of bringing up her daughter correctly.
This had to be how her mother had felt. How sad she couldn’t have lived to witness her child giving birth. She’d have been so happy. Dorrie could only hope that somehow on some supernatural level Mom looked down and smiled.
Alone with Juliana, Dorrie changed her diaper, then alternated between singing lullabies and running her fingers through her daughter’s wispy hair. Juliana contentedly drifted to sleep in her mother’s arms. Dorrie, though still sitting in the chair, felt her eyelids close.
The squeak of shoes on the wax floor awakened her. She looked up to find a high school aged volunteer carrying a fresh pitcher of water. The girl stared at Dorrie and the baby, then did a double take. In a breathless voice, she said, “That’s a lovely child. How old is she?”
“Almost two days old.”
“Wow, she’s darling. You must be so thrilled.”
“I certainly am.”
“Well, have a good day now,” the girl said, retreating backwards, almost tripping over the table, and forgetting to take the old water pitcher with her. Warning bells clanged in Dorrie’s mind. She’d been recognized. The girl would call the police any minute.
What should she do? Steve wouldn’t arrive for another two hours. That would be too late. She had to get away now. Thank goodness, she already had her street clothes on and the nurse had brought the going away kit.
Holding her daughter, she stumbled onto her feet. Ignoring the various aches and pains, she grabbed the blankets from the bassinet and swaddled Juliana in them. She next threw her purse over her free shoulder, and grabbed the plastic kit bag. Gingerly walking, she reached the doorway and peeked out, only to find the plump nurse headed in her direction.
Dorrie poked her head back inside, praying the woman would stop at one of the preceding rooms. The footsteps drew closer. Dear God, had the volunteer mentioned her suspicions to the woman? If so, the nurse might stand guard until the police arrived.
The nurse stepped in and shot a confused glance at Dorrie. “I thought your ride was coming later.”
“He changed his mind. He’s waiting downstairs.”
“Well, then, I’ll see if someone can round up a wheelchair. I’m afraid it may take a good ten or fifteen minutes, so why don’t you sit down and relax. I’d also suggest removing the child’s blankets, so she doesn’t get overheated.”
“Thank you. I’ll do that.”
With the clock ticking in her mind, Dorrie braved a smile and retreated back to her chair, clutching Juliana.
As soon as the nurse had exited the room and her footsteps echoed down the hall, Dorrie got up again, and grabbed the blanket, kit and purse. Taking a deep breath, she stepped out. Two rooms separated her from the staircase. Could she make it downstairs before the nurse came back with the wheelchair, or worse, the police arrived?
Heart pumping triple beat, body screaming in protest, Dorrie set out for the staircase, moving as fast as she could. When she reached the doorway to the first room, she slowed and smiled at the occupant sitting in the chair nursing her baby. At the second doorway, a call light blinked. From inside, a woman moaned. It wouldn’t take long for a nurse or doctor to appear. Dorrie had to get away before then.
As soon as she’d cleared the doorway, she staggered to the stairwell, and using the same hand holding the kit, clumsily turned the knob. Her purse fell off her shoulder. She spent precious seconds righting it to allow room to hold the kit, as well as the banister.
Halfway down the first flight, her foot slipped. Hanging onto Juliana with one hand, the banister the other, she almost toppled, but regained her balance. If she hadn’t rearranged her purse beforehand, she’d surely have fallen. Thank goodness, she’d taken that precaution.
Crisis averted, she clambered down more steps, sweat springing onto her forehead and stinging her eyes, combined with the pain and soreness from her birthing ordeal. One flight down, two to go.
The sensation of blood oozing onto her pad filled her with uneasiness. Though the nurse had mentioned some blood loss was normal, she remembered the doctor’s warning about not overdoing it and causing a hemorrhage. She would not panic. What she experienced had to be normal.
By the time she’d made it to the next flight, her palms had turned so slick she had to hold extra tight to the banister. The combination of poor stairway lighting, sweat filming her eyes, lightheadedness and pain made the journey take forever, yet she carried on. Finally, the last door at the bottom of the stairs stood before her. What would it reveal?
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
Dorrie hesitated, heart in her throat. What awaited her on the other side? A policeman, with gun and cuffs drawn, or maybe the gnome or his henchman ready to steal her child? Whatever the case, the longer she waited, the worst the outcome might be. She’d best get it over with.
Her fingers slipped a few times on the handle, before she got it to turn. The door swung open. She stepped out.
Dorrie found herself in a hallway near the gift shop, not far from the first floor entrance. Relieved, she headed toward the revolving doors. She had no idea what she’d do once she got outside, but she’d think of something.
She’d almost reached one of the doors, when she spotted two uniformed policemen head in the opposite one. Her heart fell to her stomach. Had they seen her?
Instead of going out, she turned and headed back to the gift shop, expecting any minute to hear the
word, “Stop.”
Somehow she made it in undetected. With shaking fingers, she clutched her baby and the kit, pretending interest in a floral arrangement. Now what should she do?
By this time, if the officers hadn’t already gotten her room number from the volunteer’s phone call, they’d surely have it from the receptionist, and would be headed up the elevator. Once they learned she’d just left, they’d head right back down. She had to get out immediately.
Once again, she headed toward the entrance and pushed at the revolving door. This time no officers delayed her progress. Outside, a nurse helping an elderly man into a station wagon cast an assessing glance in Dorrie’s direction and frowned, taking in the baby and the clearly marked take home kit. No doubt, she wondered why the protocol of a chaperone had not been followed.
Fortunately, she seemed preoccupied with carrying out the task of transferring her patient to where he belonged, beside the waiting elderly woman behind the wheel.
A taxi pulled up in back of the elderly couple’s vehicle, with a Not for Hire sign up. Dorrie stumbled into it. “Mrs. Harris?” the cabbie asked.
“Yes, that’s me. I’m late. Can we get going?”
“Where’s your husband?”
“He’s not here. Didn’t the dispatcher tell you it’s me and the baby?”
He sighed. “Hey, I just follow orders. Mistakes happen. Airport, right?”
A glance out the window confirmed the two officers exiting the building. What had the driver said? The airport? Anywhere would be better than here.
“Yes, please.”
The cab took up speed. Juliana, who’d remained docile and quiet during the entire downstairs trip, let out a huge wail. The cabbie frowned. He’d expected adult passengers and would probably prefer them. For that matter, she’d prefer not being here, seated in his cab, going somewhere she didn’t want to go.
They’d gotten about five miles away from the hospital when she heard a squawk from the radio upfront, and the voice of a dispatcher. “Car 1555, where are you? Mr. and Mrs. Harris are outside Xavier Hospital. If you don’t get there ASAP, they’ll be late for their flight. You do not want that to happen.”
Forever Young: Blessing or Curse (Always Young Trilogy) Page 24
