“And that’s for?” Mark stopped in front of her.
“Dehydration. We also have to give her some baby Tylenol for the fever.”
Marcia whimpered, reached for Anna, and Mark handed her over. “That’s it?” he asked.
“Mom’s not happy that she’s throwing up and has diarrhea, but she says not to panic that kids get all sorts of bugs and babies are tougher than we think.”
“Mm,” Mark muttered quietly. “I’ll run to the store. Be back in five.” He didn’t wait for anyone to answer.
Arms crossed, Kat walked beside Anna. “I wish I could do something besides watch.”
“I hate this.” Anna kissed the top of the baby’s head. “I think she’s getting warmer.”
“Maybe we should take her to the doctor?”
Anna nodded. “Mom said if she’s not keeping fluids down by the time office hours start, to call the doctor.”
“You don’t suppose it’s something more serious?”
Swaying from side to side, Anna stopped suddenly. “You’re thinking about Erin’s call, aren’t you?”
Kat nodded.
“So am I.”
“I’m scared, Anna. What if she’s really hurting or really sick and we’re wasting time pacing the floor waiting for nothing? I mean she’s so small. Anything could be more serious.”
“Maybe.” She studied the little bundle curled against her shoulder, breathing heavily. “Oh, sweetie. Are you really that sick?”
Marcia sighed, gulped and then gagged. Vomit all over her arms, Anna spun around to face Kat. “Call Mark. Tell him we’re taking her to the Emergency Room. Now.”
CHAPTER TWENTY THREE
First sight of the large brick building brought back chilling memories of beeping machinery and multitudes of wires and tubes forcing life into her dying friend.
Anna pulled Marcia more tightly against her breast. Whimpering into Anna’s shoulder, clutching the collar of her shirt as though it somehow held a balm that would smooth away all the discomfort, Marcia had fallen asleep as soon as the car rolled out of the driveway. Laws or no laws, Anna hadn’t had the heart to put her in the car seat. Instead she sat in the back seat holding her goddaughter and praying the worst was behind them.
Pacing like an expectant father as Kat pulled up in front of the double wide glass doors, Mark swallowed the short distance to the car in three steps.
“Want me to take her?” Holding the car door open he leaned over to help.
“We’re okay.” If she ignored a mouth dry as cotton, and her racing heart now having taken up permanent residence in her nervous stomach, then she was just dandy. “Have you been inside? Is it very busy?”
“Few people. A little boy fell out of his bunk bed, split his head open. They’re stitching him up now.”
“When she threw up again all I could think of was Erin’s warning. I couldn’t wait any longer.”
“I may agree with your reasoning, but I’m not so sure we should mention Erin’s premonitions to the doctor.”
If she hadn’t been in a hurry to get help, she would have stopped where she stood to emphasize the give-me-some-credit glare she shot in his direction.
Inside white linoleum floors reflected the bright fluorescent lights overhead. Blue vinyl chairs broke up the monotony of the sterile chalky surroundings. A gray haired woman somewhere between old and ancient focused intently on her knitting, the rhythmic clacking of metal against metal the only sound in the cavernous room. Beside her a balding man stared at the muted TV hanging from the ceiling.
Her gaze skipping over the few other people scattered throughout the waiting area, Anna hurried toward the woman scribbling behind a long counter - the only barrier between her and help.
“We need to see a doctor.” Mark spoke a beat ahead of her.
The woman glanced up from her paperwork, took a moment to study Anna, Mark and then the sleeping baby. “What seems to be the problem?”
“Diarrhea and vomiting,” Anna answered.
“The baby?”
Anna nodded.
Leaning forward, the receptionist took another sweeping study of Marcia. “You can have a seat over there. Someone will take a look at her shortly.” She gestured with her head to the empty row of blue chairs and held up a clipboard and pen. “In the meantime I’ll need one of you to fill this out.”
Whether Mark merely sensed Anna was about to explode and demand a doctor examine Marcia now, or if he could somehow read how she felt on her face, she didn’t know. Whichever it was didn’t matter, the gentle squeeze of his hand on her arm infused her with a calmness that had slowly been slipping away, eroding with every dry heave and diaper change. “You go sit. I’m sure it won’t take long.”
He was right. Though the twenty minutes seemed like an eternity, she was relieved when the woman indicated they should go on inside.
“Want me to hold her?” Mark stood beside her in the tiny blue curtained cubicle.
“No. I’m fine.” If anyone had told her two weeks ago that Marcia would be snuggled in her arms like this, she wouldn’t have believed it. There was no way she was letting go now.
Over the next few minutes a cheery nurse had come in and taken Marcia’s temperature along with a few other inconvenient exams and a long list of questions, all of which left Marcia screaming in Anna’s arms. By the time the young doctor appeared even Mark’s steady hand on Anna’s shoulder couldn’t ease her nerves.
“What have we here?” The tall brunette who barely looked old enough to baby-sit passed a hand over Marcia’s cheek. A single strand of hair slipped out of her ponytail and dangled in front of her eyes.
Anna had an overwhelming urge to insist on Dr. Doug Ross, George Clooney's character from the TV show ER. Instead she ignored the doctor’s youthful appearance and merely repeated the same thing she’d said over and over since walking through the emergency room doors. “Slight fever, vomiting and diarrhea.”
As soon as the doctor held out her stethoscope, Marcia tested her lungs again.
“It’s okay, baby,” Anna cooed. “The nice doctor is going to give you some yummy medicine—“
“Yummy?” Mark mouthed.
Anna kissed the top of Marcia’s head and pretended not to notice his questioning grimace. “She’s going to make you feel all better.”
“First thing, I’ll start an IV to rehydrate.” The doctor looked up, her stethoscope once again dangling around her neck. “I’m going to order a few routine tests, CBC, chemistry panel. We’ll keep an eye on her, if she perks up then you can take her home.”
“What about medication? Antibiotics?” Mark asked.
“Antibiotics don’t work on viral symptoms and most likely this is just a nasty flu. Lots of fluids will be her best medicine.”
Mark nodded. Anna had heard enough about the over-prescribing of antibiotics to know the doctor was right, but she still would have felt better if they could give Marcia some sort of medicine.
Three hours later, still rocking in Anna’s arms, Marcia, after being pricked and stuck and crying herself to sleep had only thrown up once more.
“Her color seems better, don’t you think?” Mark ran his fingers through her fine hair.
“I don’t know. She still feels so warm.”
“I wonder how long she has to go without heaving before they’ll let us take her home?”
“I heard the nurse say they can keep her in observation up to twenty three hours. I’m hoping it doesn’t come to that.” Anna’s heart cracked open a little further every time Marcia had to heave. Her beautiful deep blue eyes seemed to plead with Anna to make it all stop.
Throughout the day, since the ER wasn’t inclined to allow more than two people at a time inside with Marcia, Kat and Mark would exchange places. Anna never once gave up her hold on the baby. The nurses had brought in a slightly larger chair with armrests. Propped with pillows under an elbow, she had settled in for the duration, no matter how long that would be.
Ev
ery few hours, when they thought things were settling down, that Marcia was turning the corner, she would vomit or soil another diaper. Since they’d first walked through the emergency room doors what seemed like twelve of the longest hours of her life had passed when the doctor spread open the curtained wall.
“There’s been a slight change.”
The young woman looked stiff and guarded and Anna was sure the change wasn’t for the better.
“Marcia’s most recent bowel movement had some blood.”
“Blood?” she whispered. Without thinking her hand stretched out in search of Mark’s. Their fingers intertwined.
“Don’t let that scare you. This could be indicative of a bacterial infection. I’m sending a stool for culture. It will take a few days to get the results, but in the meantime, I’d like to admit her.”
This wasn’t supposed to be happening. Kids catch all sorts of bugs. That’s what her mom had told her. Anna had four nephews and not one spent any time other than the day they were born in the hospital. Except for her nephew Tony Jr. who broke his arm when he fell out of the neighbor’s tree, none had ever seen the inside of an ER. What had she done wrong? Babs trusted her - her. Not Erin, not Kat, not even Mark who clearly knew more about Marcia than she did. Harrison was right. She had no business thinking she could be a mom.
“Quarter for your thoughts.” Mark sat in the pink vinyl padded highback chair at the foot of Marcia’s pediatric bed. Kat stood quietly in the corner of the room.
“Quarter?”
“Inflation.”
The corner of her mouth twitched in amusement She snorted in a poor imitation of a laugh. “It’s almost midnight. You guys should go home and get a decent night’s sleep.”
“Back at ya.” Mark lifted his chin in her direction.
“I want to be here if she wakes up.”
“Look.” Kat moved up to the foot of the bed and leaned against Mark’s chair. “It’s been nearly four hours since she last threw up. That’s the longest she’s gone since all this started. She’s sleeping soundly. This is probably the best time for you to get some rest. When she wakes up in the morning she’s going to want one of you two to be here, so you might as well go get some sleep now. I’ll stay and take the first shift.”
“I’m not leaving.” Anna turned to look at the sleeping baby. At first Marcia wouldn’t let go of her, but with a little coaxing she finally dozed off in bed. “I’ll be fine right here. I won’t be the first mother to sleep in one of these chairs.”
If it weren’t for the twinkling smile in Mark’s eyes she might not have realized what she’d called herself - mother.
“There’s a family room down the hall. It has a couple of those chairs that unfold flat into single beds. Why don’t you go lay down there for a while? I’ll stick around in case she wakes up.” Mark turned to face Kat. “If you go home and get some real sleep, you can pick Erin up at the airport in the morning. Tomorrow when Marcia’s better the two of you can spell us.”
“You’re assuming she won’t pitch a fit when she notices one of you isn’t in the room.”
“She hasn’t done that for a while.” Mark pushed to his feet and stepped up to the bed between Marcia and Anna.
“Maybe not, but she hasn’t exactly warmed up to me either.” Kat flopped in the recently vacated chair.
“She will.” Lightly, Mark kissed Marcia’s forehead then shifted in place and hooked a hand around Anna’s elbow nudging her up from the chair. “Why don’t you walk her to the car, get a little fresh air, then catch forty winks in the family room?”
“I don’t want to leave her.” Pulling her elbow away from Mark’s hold, she crossed her arms and hoped she looked the part of the concerned mother and not like a pouting three year old. If Babs were here instead of her, Babs would stay. She wasn’t going to do any less.
“I’d argue with you two.” Kat pushed to her feet. “But I know even if I go home all I’d do is watch TV. I’m going to head over to the family room. If either of you wants a break, come and get me.”
When Kat came back into the room three hours later, Mark and Anna were sound asleep in their respective chairs. Stubborn as mules. Both of them. At least Anna had scooted her chair up to the bed. With the side rail of the crib down and her head and arms resting on the mattress, she probably would avoid the sore neck that Mark was bound to wake up with. But the way Mark’s head flopped forward, the only support coming from his chin against his chest, she was sure he’d feel it come morning.
“Mark,” she whispered, tapping his shoulder.
His head rolled up slowly. After she repeated his name, his eyes snapped open. “Marcia!”
“Is fine. But I don’t think I’ll be able to say the same for you. Go lie down a while. If you stay like this you’re going to have one hell of a kink in your neck. Go.”
His eyes shifted from Marcia to Anna and back. His mouth opened but Kat cut him off before he could speak.
“Just go. I’ll watch them.” She patted his shoulder. “Go.”
“She needs sleep too.”
“Go.” She tipped her head, pointing toward the door.
Lips pressed tightly together, his brow furrowed, his gaze steady on the two sleeping forms on the bed, he stood slowly inching away from the chair. He couldn’t have looked more forlorn if he were the lone pallbearer at a funeral.
“Go,” she encouraged again. “I’ll come get you if there are any changes.”
With a reluctant nod, he made his way out the door and down the hall.
Careful not to make any noise, she sat back in the nearby chair, staring at the IV dripping into Marcia’s tiny arm. Tears stung the back of her eyes. “Oh baby. I sure hope Aunt Erin gets off the plane tomorrow feeling happy. If that feeling hasn’t gone away, I don’t think I’ll be able to take it if anything more happens to you. I just don’t.”
“Come on.” Mark handed Anna a cup of hot chocolate. “If you won’t go for breakfast, breakfast will come to you.”
Anna didn’t even bother to look up. Her gaze remained fixed on the pale sleeping baby. “I don’t need breakfast. I’m fine.”
“For now. Come with me a minute.” Mark tugged at the back of her seat. “Marcia will be okay alone for a little while. You’re going to walk with me, get your blood flowing, and eat this breakfast burrito. It’s not exactly gourmet, but it’s protein.”
“I don’t want to walk,” Anna objected, but stood. Leaning into Mark, she followed him like a little puppy would his new six-year-old master.
He held out the burrito. “Bite.”
She took a small taste and moved to follow him down the hall. She’d taken a few steps and another bite when a high pitched woman’s voice exploded from the room next door. “No! My baby!”
Anna and Mark stopped cold as nurses ran from opposite ends of the hall toward the sound of the screaming woman. A stocky nurse in pale green followed with the crash cart.
The two bites of egg Anna had taken threatened to come back up. She didn’t have to be in the room to know what was happening. The choreographed efforts of the staff to keep someone alive. A child. A baby. God, she hated hospitals.
Frozen in place, neither she nor Mark moved a single muscle as the frantic activity slowed. When two nurses rushed past her pushing the baby bed laden with IVs and oxygen down the hall, she took a long deep breath and blinked back the tears threatening to escape her water rimmed eyes.
“It’s okay. She’ll be all right.” A gravelly male voice carried over to where Anna stood.
The fragile sound seemed more a question than a promise, but from the shattered appearance of the woman in his arms, Anna hoped he was right.
The poor man held the sobbing young woman upright as they walked by her and Mark in the hall. They couldn’t have been much past their mid twenties. So young for so much heartache.
Anna could hear his gentle words of comfort. “She’ll have the best care in ICU. It’ll be fine. She’ll get better.”
Life was too damn fragile. Anna thought she’d learned her lesson when Babs’ life was ripped out from under her by a drunken asshole. Seeing the little girl next door rushed to ICU and her terrified parents struggling to maintain hope, reminded Anna that no one was guaranteed another day. Not a vibrant new mother, not a sickly young child, not even her precious Marcia.
“When I woke up the other night I knew it wasn’t good, but I didn’t think it would be this bad.” Erin tossed her carry-on into the back of the car and climbed into the front seat. When she’d left San Francisco, it never occurred to her she’d be back again so soon.
Kat pulled away from the curb, dodging the swarm of cabs muscling their way across to the remaining throng of arriving passengers. “Marcia seemed to be doing a little better when I left the hospital this morning. The vomiting and diarrhea haven’t stopped completely, but she seems less... lethargic.”
“That’s a good sign.” Forcing the edges of her mouth to curl up, Erin hoped her strained grin resembled a reassuring smile.
“Oh Lord, I hope so. Every time she threw up she’d get this look on her face as if to ask why are you letting this happen to me. I feel like the biggest meanie on earth.” Stopping at the light, Kat blew out a short breath and turned to face Erin. “What about you? How’s the feeling?”
“Still there.” She wanted to feel relieved Marcia seemed to be improving, but her gut told her they weren’t through the worst of it yet.
“Damn.” Kat slammed her palms against the steering wheel. “Then this isn’t over?”
“I don’t know.” There wasn’t a single time Erin could remember when she wanted her instincts to be wrong as badly as she did right now. But she just didn’t know. It was still up for debate whether this gift of hers was a blessing or a curse. If only she knew for sure everything would be okay. “How are y’all holding up?”
“Anna’s going to need her own room soon if she’s not careful. Mark’s almost as bad. It didn’t help that a little girl in the room next door went into cardiac arrest and had to be taken to ICU.”
The Champagne Sisterhood Page 25
