“I won’t. But the point is, Marigold isn’t the one dealing with the fallout of her poor choices—we are.”
Hello? I’m in a coma. That’s not punishment enough?
“Mom, Dad’s right—we can’t terminate the pregnancy. It’s wrong.”
I admire Sidney’s conviction. I don’t know if I could be so sure if I were making this decision for someone else… or even for myself.
“More wrong than bringing a possibly damaged baby into the world?” my mother asked. “I don’t mean to sound selfish, but I have to consider the worst-case scenario. What if Marigold doesn’t recover? I don’t know if I can deal with raising a child at this stage of my life, especially a child with special needs.”
She’s right. It’s not fair to expect her to take on that responsibility.
“I could take it,” Sidney offered.
My heart swelled.
“Absolutely not. You have to graduate law school and someday you’ll have babies of your own. I’m not going to let you ruin your life by taking on someone else’s problem.”
Okay, that stings. But neither can I argue with her points.
“Mother, I think the best thing to do is to let nature take its course. If the baby isn’t well, she’ll miscarry. Or if we learn in the next few weeks the baby has grievous defects and won’t survive, or is putting Marigold’s life in danger, then we can ask the doctors to intervene.”
“You’re right,” my mother said. “But we still haven’t addressed what to do with the child once it’s born if Marigold can’t take care of it.”
“We don’t have to make that decision right now,” Sidney soothed. “But in the short term, announcing Marigold is pregnant will help her case and put more pressure on the A.D.A. to prosecute once the result of Keith Young’s blood alcohol content test is confirmed. And we need to be ready to file a civil suit.”
“You think?”
“Definitely. Keith Young has celebrity on his side, so we need an ace in the hole to get his legal team to settle quickly. Now we’re facing not only long-term medical bills and care for Marigold, but also a child.”
“When will you make the announcement?”
“David and I will work that out. Until then, no one can know—not even Aunt Winnie. And I’m going to have another talk with Dr. Tyson—another photo of Marigold was leaked to the tabloids this morning. That’s bad enough, but this piece of information can’t get out before we’re ready.”
“What about the father? If we announce Marigold is pregnant, what if he comes forward and wants to be involved somehow?”
“That could complicate things,” Sidney agreed.
“What if he’s unbearable? What if it’s her hairy boss, for God’s sake?”
I could do worse, Mother.
“I’ll see if I can find out who it might be before we go public with the news in case we need to do some damage control,” Sid said. “The police still have our phones, which is making me crazy. I’ll visit that detective with the swagger. Maybe he’ll help me get them back. He seems to have a soft spot for Marigold.”
“Okay. So, we’re going public with the news, and we’re letting nature take its course.”
“I think that’s best,” Sidney said.
I am beyond relieved. Because I don’t know if I would’ve had the courage to make the right decision on my own.
My mother sighed. “Well, you’re always right, Sidney, so I trust you now, too.”
Her voice was soft and I imagined her cupping my sister’s face with her hand. I’ve tried not to be envious of their closer bond, but I confess it’s still hard to witness.
“Hm, are those new earrings?”
Sid gave a little laugh. “David bought them for me.”
“Wow, first the watch, and now the earrings. They look expensive, too.”
“He has good taste.”
“He likes you, so yes, he does have good taste.”
They had another mother-daughter moment, then Mom announced she had to get to a closing. That billboard on GA-400 must be working.
“I’ll stay and say goodbye to Marigold,” Sid said.
That’s nice of her. And I hope she takes my hand because I want to try to let her know how much I appreciate what she did for me and my baby.
But once the door closed, I heard her rummage in her purse, then make a phone call. Since the police still had our phones, Sid must’ve purchased another phone after the accident.
“David, it’s me. You know that exclusive announcement we talked about for my appearance on The Doctors? We’ve got it, babe, and it’s going to blow everyone away.”
Within a few hours, we’d gone from a possible abortion to announcing my pregnancy on a nationally syndicated television show. So Sidney had made the right decision… but for the wrong reason?
September 8, Thursday
“COMA GIRL, what’s going on?”
Roberta floated into the room on a coconut-scented breeze and fell into the chair next to my bed.
“I mean it—what’s going on? Your sister showed up at the apartment this morning and asked if we could have a chat.”
Sidney? Where is this going?
“I don’t have to tell you after she accused me of being a thief when all I did was borrow your Chloe purse, I wasn’t too keen on chatting. But since she brought breakfast from The Flying Biscuit as a peace offering, I let her in. French toast is a weakness.”
Roberta has lots of weaknesses.
“Anyway, she said she’s going on that television show The Doctors to talk about your coma and she needed some recent photos of you. I think it’s kind of strange that your own sister doesn’t have pictures of you, but now that I think about it, maybe it was a ploy to get in the apartment and look around.”
The sound of a bag ripping rent the air. “I brought us a cinnamon coffee cake to split, does that sound good?”
Indeed it does.
“So like I was saying,” she said through a full mouth, “your sis walked around the apartment looking at pictures of you in frames. I let her take some of them and I gave her some pictures from my phone because I want you to look good on TV, you know? Don’t worry, I didn’t show her the ones where we drank too much sangria and drew mustaches on each other with Sharpies.” She laughed. “Do you remember how long it took for those to wear off?”
I remember. I’d resorted to wearing Band-aids over mine until the permanent marker grew off.
“She took the one of us singing karaoke, said she didn’t know you could sing. I told her you were a hit that night, that people kept asking you to come back up and do another song. Girl, you missed your calling, shoulda tried out for American Idol.”
Roberta is being kind, but I do enjoy singing. Funny how reciting a poem in front of class left my knees knocking with stage fright, but put a microphone in my hand, and get out of my way.
“But looks like you’re going to make it on TV after all. The Doctors is a big honking deal. I’ll bet you get so much fan mail, the super will have to move our mail to a separate box all on its own. He’s still complaining, but I’ve been dropping off day-old cookies from the bakery, and the last time he brought the mail by, I answered the door in my bra and that seemed to grease his wheels.”
I’ll just bet.
“Your sister asked me if you had any family photos, but I don’t remember seeing any.”
Because they were scarce. Apparently Sidney hadn’t been able to find any at home, either. Roberta took another big bite of cake and kept right on talking.
“And she asked me all kinds of questions about if you dated and who you dated and if you were seeing anyone special. I told her no, that you’d met up with a few guys on line, but it hadn’t amounted to anything. I didn’t mention Duncan because the two of you were never really an item and besides, he’s getting married.”
Good girl.
“Get this—she asked if anything was going on between you and Mr. Palmer—that made me belly laugh. And she
asked me if you’d hooked up with anyone right before the accident. Nobody came to mind, but I asked her why. She said she and your parents just wanted to make sure they had contacted all the people who were important in your life.”
It sounds plausible.
“She asked for your mail, said they were going to post some of the letters on your Facebook page, so I thought it was okay to give her the ones I’d already opened and read to you. Things got a little touchy when she asked me if anyone had sent cash. I told her I was keeping it in an envelope for you in the freezer. I thought she’d make a fuss, but she just said thanks for being such a good friend, and promised to bring me back an autographed picture of that yummy popsicle Dr. Travis from the show. I mean, honestly, what doctor looks like that?”
I’m glad Sidney was cordial to Roberta.
She licked her fingers. “Oh, and Marco is back and guess what? He bought a new big-screen TV for the living room! You’re going to love it. It’s humungous, one of those curved models. He has a new job and is making great money. He filed the divorce papers, so we’re good. He’s even been talking about us getting married, having a family of our own. I’ve never thought about having a baby before, have you?”
I want to belly laugh.
September 9, Friday
“Peace be with you, ladies.”
And also with you. I was happy to see Sister Irene hadn’t been arrested for murdering the man who killed her sister.
Yet.
“So it’s true, then,” the nun said, her voice high and sunny. “Audrey did wake up. What a glorious miracle. I wish the same for you, Karen, and you, Jill, and you, Marigold.”
She prayed over each of us, stopping at my bed last. And since I’ve been contemplating the miracle of the life growing inside me, I actually listened this time and even joined in the prayer Sister Irene uttered.
You see, I’ve been negotiating with God lately. Okay, I realize He’s holding all the cards, but I’m prepared to do just about anything if he will take care of my baby. Here’s what I’m offering:
I will stop taking His name in vain—although it’s such a habit, it might take some time.
I will strive to forgive people who have wronged me, including Keith Young. Although I’m a little conflicted between not wanting him to suffer, but hoping he can cough up enough cash to cover my medical bills and the repairs on my car.
I will stop fornicating. Okay, that one’s only applicable if I get out of this bed. But now I totally get the monumental potential of creating a human being every time I have sex. My hormones have been scared straight.
I will try to mend my family. I don’t know where things went wrong, but I know there is much disharmony among the Kemps. I’ve always had the feeling I was at the heart of my family’s discontent, maybe even the cause. But I realize that’s a selfish point of view—it’s not about me. And now that I’m an adult, I share some of the blame if my family is in disarray. I want a chance to fix things. And if I don’t wake up, I hope my child will be the conduit for love I haven’t been.
For the record, God hasn’t let me in on whether it’s enough, or how long he’ll make me wait to find out.
“How are you, Marigold?” Sister Irene asked. “You look especially peaceful today, like someone who has forgiven trespasses.” She sighed. “You might be wondering where I am on my own path of forgiveness.”
I so am, considering the last time she visited, she talked about filleting her sister’s paroled murderer and cutting him up into chunks.
“Sadly, I’m not there yet,” she whispered. “But I’ve been reading the Bible every day.”
That sounds promising.
“You know, Ecclesiastes 3:3 says there is a time to kill.”
Uh-oh.
“So I bought a big knife.”
Yikes.
“Shhhh,” she said close to my ear. “Don’t tell anyone.”
As if.
September 10, Saturday
I NEVER KNOW what Saturdays will be like. Sometimes we have many visitors because people are off work, and sometimes we have few visitors because people are off work and would rather do just about anything other than visit the vegetable patch.
Today all my people are obviously out doing more fun things. But over in bed two, Karen Suh has a visitor. Her ex-husband Jonas is back, and he brought flowers.
“Hi, Karen,” he said. “I’ve been doing some work at the house, and the jasmine bushes were so full, I thought I’d cut some for you.”
The scent is heavenly.
“I hope you don’t mind,” he said. “But I drove by the house a couple of weeks ago and noticed there were a few things that needed to be done, so I’ve been going over after work and taking care of things. I, um, still have a key.”
So it was the house they have lived in when they were married.
“I let Mrs. Baxter know I’d be in and out so she wouldn’t think I was a burglar.” He gave a little laugh. “She wanted to know if my name is still on the deed and I told her it is, that we hadn’t gotten around to filing a quitclaim before you—” His voice broke off, then he recovered. “Before your accident. But she was nice and asked about you. I told her you’re still recovering and will be waking up soon.”
He sounded wistful. The man obviously still had a lot of affection for his ex-wife.
“The back yard was a mess,” he continued. “Lightning got the pear tree, split it in two. Branches were on the ground, and debris everywhere. I repaired the swing and fixed a couple of loose boards in the fence.”
He dragged a chair across the floor. “Inside, there was a leak in the master bathroom, so the floor will need to be replaced. And there’s some damage to the dining room ceiling, but it won’t take me long to fix it. But some of the pictures that were sitting on the sideboard are ruined. Not sure why you still have pictures of us sitting around anyway, after what I did to you… to us.”
Ah… a story.
“If I could rewind the clock, I would in a minute,” he said, sounding like a broken man. “If I hadn’t cheated, we wouldn’t have gotten divorced, and you wouldn’t have climbed that ladder.”
To clean the gutters, I recall. Only to fall and wind up in this bed. A freak accident, and Jonas Suh felt responsible for setting in motion the series of events that led up to it.
“If I’d done the right thing, this wouldn’t have happened. I wish God had punished me instead of you.”
Although it sounds as if he is punishing himself plenty.
“If you can hear me, Karen, please forgive me. And come back to me.”
If my Aunt Winnie’s rinky-dink psychic is to be believed, Karen Suh is still aware. What was it Audrey had said? That she’d needed something to latch onto to bring her back. For Karen, I hope it’s the voice of someone who still cares about her.
September 11, Sunday
“BRAVES AND METS at home,” Detective Jack Terry said. “It doesn’t get better than that.”
He’s baaaaaack.
“I brought burgers and sweet potato fries. Are you hungry?”
Ugh, no. It must be the baby, because food doesn’t smell as good as it used to.
“Did you miss me last Sunday? Come on, Marigold, I’ll bet you did.”
Okay, maybe a smidgen.
“Trust me, I would’ve rather been here watching the game with you. I went house-hunting.”
Wow.
He ripped open a bag. “I know—I can’t believe those words came out of my mouth. And yes, it was just as awful as it sounds. More, even. It’s a damn project. There’s trying to decide what part of town to live in, then what kind of house, yard, garage you want, in what kind of community. How the traffic flows, the crime rate, what school system you’re in.”
School system? Jack has children?
He groaned and I visualized him pulling his hand down over his face. “I’m not cut out for domesticity.”
Was he getting married? Moving in with someone?
“I guess
that’s why people pay agents like your mother to do the legwork for them. I’m kind of obligated to call this one agent who’s a friend of a friend, but I dread it because… well, you don’t want to hear my problems.”
Oh, but I do. Don’t stop now.
“The Falcons play today, too,” he offered, changing the subject. “First game of the regular season. Keith Young is supposed to start. He’s allowed to play until results of his blood alcohol test are confirmed, then we’ll see. But by then, he’ll have two or three games under his belt.”
And if he racks up stats, he will be harder to prosecute.
“On another note, your sister came down to the station yesterday to see me. Wanted your phones back, said she had to find the phone numbers of some friends of yours to let them know what happened. I can’t release them while the case is still open, but against my better judgment, I let her go through your phone.”
No worries—Sidney won’t find anything on my phone that will lead her to Duncan—no racy selfies or sexts, no chummy IM’s or flirtatious Facebook posts. I don’t think his last name—Wheeler—is even listed on his contacts page.
“I feel as if I violated your privacy, even though she’s your sister.” He sighed. “Did I do the right thing?”
I’m touched Jack is worried he did something to upset the girl in the coma. Is he usually this sensitive? Or is he projecting onto me because I can’t interact with him and I’m safe?
September 12, Monday
“DOES MARIGOLD SEEM different to you?” Nurse Teddy asked.
“No,” Gina responded in her high ‘I’m lying’ voice.
“Come on, spill. What’s going on?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Okay, I guess you’ll tell me when you’re ready,” he groused. “How are things with you and Gabriel?”
“Couldn’t be better,” she said happily. “So well, in fact, I think I’m going to introduce him to my son next week.”
“Ooh, so the nookie is good?”
“I wouldn’t know,” she said primly. “My rule is no nookie the first ninety days.”
“Damn, really?”
“If I guy can’t wait ninety days, he’s not worth keeping around.”
How very refreshing.
Coma Girl: part 3 (Kindle Single) Page 3
