Chapter Thirty-Five
Darla
I watch as Stella is wheeled away from me again for her third surgery to clean out any visible signs of infection in the wound. As I stand in her empty ICU room, I notice a drawing taped to the wall by her bed. It’s a picture of a girl with a dog, and the caption reads, “git wel soon, Camille.” I clutch my chest. Her school buddy drew a picture for her. It’s such a sweet gesture from one child to another. What I wouldn’t give for one more crayon drawing on the living room wall or another silly picture plastered to my already overloaded refrigerator door.
Dr. Michaels tells us that another surgery is necessary to save her life. I know there is going to be a time in which he will tell me he had to amputate her leg or that she didn’t make it. She’s too young to have to deal with something so scary and tragic. She’s completely unconscious, not moving at all, and it terrifies me.
I have settled into the mundane routine of sitting in the waiting room, waiting for eight in the morning, two in the afternoon, and eight in the evening. These are the times when I can put my eyes on her and convince myself she has made it through another six hours.
At night, it’s like a big deathly quiet sleepover for all the families of ICU patients. Sleeping bags litter the floor, and couches and chairs become makeshift beds. One by one, we take turns at the bathroom sink, taking sponge baths. We don’t talk, and we don’t make eye contact, because if we do, one of us will break, and then all of us will break. None of us can afford to crumble. We rotate charging our cell phones in the only two outlets in the entire room. I will definitely write a strongly worded letter to the head of ICU about how to make it easier on families who have to live here. A fricking coffeepot and a few more outlets wouldn’t hurt anything.
No matter how many blankets I use to pad the worn-out cushions, the scratchy couches aren’t made any softer. My second-hand sofa at home is in ten times better shape. The snack machine still has a bag of chips hanging from the third row, which prevents any other salty treat from dropping. I don’t know how many people have tried to free that stupid bag that taunts us all. I guess our lives are like that one-and-a-half-ounce bag of trans fat. We’re all hanging in midair, hoping someone will be strong enough to help us.
Theo and I never speak. When he’s around, he huddles in a corner of the room, as far away from me as humanly possible. His dark, vacant eyes tell me everything I need to know. He hates me, and there’s nothing I can do about it. I’ve hurt him more than one man can handle. That is, when he’s around.
Last night, he didn’t show up at all. He didn’t scoot in to the visitation at the last minute, nor did he sleep in the waiting room. He was completely AWOL. As mad as I am about the game, it pales in comparison to how angry I am that he seems to have forgotten about our daughter. There are no words to describe the frustration I feel toward him right now.
During the days, we have a steady stream of friends and family that try to keep us company, try to keep us fed, and try to keep our hopes up. Diane calls for updates on cue after every visitation time. Shelby usually stops by after work.
Reverend and Mrs. Edwards come by in the middle of the day. They are both so kind to me even though they don’t have to be. It seems as though every member of their church filters in and out, offering food, a shoulder to cry on, and prayers—lots of prayers. They don’t even know me, but they treat me like family, as if we’ve been connected for years instead of days. I wish they were my family. I’ve never known people who have so much compassion for others, for someone they’ve never met. I devastated a member of their church family, and they still treat me with love and kindness.
Tommy stays the night when Theo doesn’t, which is so sweet of him. He’s cordial, but I can tell he’s messed up about all of this. Jennifer and her little sister Heather are in and out. Jennifer makes me get out into the sunshine even if it’s just for a “snig,” as she would say. Many times, she has offered to talk to Theo again for me, but it’s no use. I love her for wanting to, but she doesn’t need to be the peacemaker.
I’ve learned that Heather is the spitfire of the family. She says exactly what’s on her mind and makes no apologies. She’s absolutely adorable, and I can see so much of Stella in her, from her spunky attitude to her long dark-blond hair. Oh boy, am I in for a world of trouble when my daughter gets older. Please God, let her get older. Bring on the teenage years. And I’ll find a way to get her that pony she keeps asking for. Whatever she wants, I’ll figure out how to get it for her.
Isaac stops by in the mornings before work. This morning, I sit by him while Stella’s in surgery. He’s all fidgety, even more so than usual. He taps his foot and drums his fingers on the end table until I cover his hand with mine.
“You’re more nervous than I am. What’s up?”
“Oh, nothing. When’s Shelby stopping by?”
“I think she said she would stop by after work like usual. You’ll see her before I will. Why don’t you ask her yourself?”
He shrugs. “I guess I could.”
“Calm down. I need peaceful vibes around me.”
He crosses his legs in the chair and does a deep breathing yoga pose. “Ah. All better.”
“Why don’t we go down the hallway before you drive everyone crazy? But not too far in case…”
“Sure, that’d be good. Where’s Theo?” he asks as we head out the door.
I shrug. “He’s gone a lot. I guess he’s not cut out for this part of parenting. It’s easy when things go smoothly. Nothing about this is easy.”
He rubs my shoulders.
I moan. “Thanks, buddy.”
“Do you two talk?”
“Hardly at all. His usual sleeping hangout is over in the far corner. He comes in, gets a blanket, and lies down. The only time we interact is during visiting times, and he’s missed a few of those this week, which really pisses me off. When he does show up, he puts on a brave face for Stella, but when we leave her room, he goes his way, and I go mine.”
Isaac hugs me. “Have you tried to talk to him again?”
“He’s made it clear he doesn’t want me near him.”
He frowns. “I thought he’d come around.”
“Me too, but he hates me. Right now, I am dog-tired. Speaking of dogs, how is Yeti?”
“That fleabag hates me,” Isaac says.
I giggle. “It’s your own fault. You’ve stepped on him a thousand times.”
“Well, you shouldn’t feed the hand that bites you, or something like that.”
If there is a way for Isaac to mutilate the English language, he will. “What?”
“Fortunately, Yeti looooves my new boyfriend.”
“New boyfriend? When did this happen?”
He gives me a wry smile. “I don’t tell you everything. Anyway, it’s like some furry bromance they’re having. ‘Isn’t Yeti a sweetie pie? I love my whittle Yeti. Yes, I do, yes I do!’”
“Jealous much?”
“It’s disgusting. That dog has practically licked the hide off his face. He needs to learn how to hold his licker.”
I grin. Isaac is good comedic relief in an otherwise sober and dreadful environment. The boring hallway with the standard-issue hospital artwork even seems less drab with him in it.
“Don’t be surprised if instead of having Yeti waiting for you when you get home, it’s me.”
I pat him on the back. “Poor baby. But you don’t know how much I appreciate everything you’re doing for me and Stella. You’re taking care of everything, from watering my plants—”
“Oops,” he says.
I poke him in the ribs. “Regardless of the plants, you’re letting me focus on Stella. And the cookies are delicious. I hope you don’t mind me sharing with some of the other families stuck here in ICU purgatory.”
“Not at all. Next time, I’ll bring more.” He stops to stretch. “Several fitness members have asked how you and Theo are doing. It appears that you two have lots of friends.”
I nod. “There’s a steady stream of dudes in scrubs that stay and chat for a few minutes even if he’s not around. I’m guessing one of them is covering for Theo, not that I would know.”
“Anybody else show up?”
I laugh. “What is up with you?”
He picks up his pace. “Nothing.”
I grab his arm. “You know something. Tell me.”
He glances at his watch. “Oh, it’s getting late. Shelby’s going to have my ass if I’m late again.” He pecks me on the cheek. “Toodles. I’ll stop by later.” He backpedals away from me in a rush, but not before he blows me a kiss. He bumps into Theo and gives him a hug.
It’s terrible that I feel the tiniest bit jealous. Isaac is my friend. I don’t have many people in my corner, and I’m very protective of Isaac. He and Theo share a moment, and before Isaac leaves, he points to a person coming off the elevator.
And out of the blue, Mallory strolls in. I don’t know whom she is here to comfort or if she’s here to gloat. No matter what the reason, she’s here now. Theo and I both stare at her, not knowing what to think of her appearance. She waves at Theo but continues toward his family. She gives Mrs. Edwards a kiss on the cheek. It’s not a kiss-kiss that she would give her friends; it’s a sweet, respectful kiss.
Mrs. Edwards hugs her and whispers in her ear. Mallory shrugs and gives her another kiss on the cheek. The reaction from Theo’s mother is a far cry from Jennifer’s stiff spine and thin-lipped smile. Mallory quickly moves past Jennifer and on to Theo. They share a private conversation. She does most of the talking, and I’m not sure how I feel about that. My argument with Theo may have sent him scampering right back into her arms. He nods as he focuses on his sneakers. She kisses him on the cheek and gives him a hug before making her way over to me. I can’t even say hello before she’s wrapping her arms around me.
“Oh, Darla, I’m so sorry.”
“Thanks.”
We move to the corner of the room to have a little bit of privacy. She sits next to me and holds my hand. “What can I do?”
“What?”
“I saw Isaac at the fitness center, and he thought it would be a good idea for me to stop by. I hope that’s okay.”
“Hmm.”
“I’ll sit with you. I’ll bring you food. Whatever you need.”
“I’m confused. Isaac?” I ask, keeping my eyes trained on Theo.
He hangs his head low, but from time to time, he surveys us through the hair that has fallen over his eyes.
“Yeah, he cares so much for you and your little girl. I’m not here to cause problems. I’m here because at one point, we were friends.” She lets out a nervous laugh. “After Isaac gave me a serious tongue-lashing about what I did, he convinced me that I needed to show you my support. And he was right.”
My sleep-deprived, food-restricted body leans into hers, and she cradles me, letting me weep. This is what I need. Right now, even with the torture of my baby being so sick, I feel as if a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. At least one person doesn’t hate me. It’s not the person I would have preferred, but I’ll take it at the moment.
“Theo has always been in love with you,” she says.
“Past tense. He hates me. Can you blame him?”
She rubs my shoulder. “Give him time.”
I sit up in my chair and wipe my eyes with the back of my hand. I stare into her pretty blue eyes. “What if she doesn’t make it?”
“If there is one thing I’ve learned by being around the Edwards bunch these last few years, it’s that they have tremendous faith. Draw strength from it. It will help you.” She motions with her head toward Theo. “And he’s a good guy. You deserve him.”
Wow. I never thought those words would come from her. She kisses my cheek and promises she’ll be back later today. At the door, she waves good-bye to me. I glance over at Theo, who witnessed everything. He has a “what the heck” expression on his face.
My thoughts exactly.
Stella makes it through surgery with both legs intact. Dr. Michaels says there was more necrotic tissue that needed to be removed, but he thinks the combination of steroids and antibiotics have halted the spread of infection. Hopefully, her cultures from today will be negative for any more growth.
Working in a hospital, I know how expensive even one day can be. Even with my health insurance, I cannot imagine how much this will cost me. The price of being airlifted to the hospital will probably make me hyperventilate. But I’ll take out a second or third mortgage on my house if it means getting Stella the care she needs.
Theo’s parents are here again. His mother has to be one of the kindest people on Earth. When she visits, she insists we all sit together. Even if Theo is not around, she holds me as though I’m one of her flock. She lets me rest my head on her shoulder and cry my eyes out. Once, during one of my crying jags, Theo bolted out the door, unable to handle it all.
Mrs. Edwards never questions me, never judges me, and always comforts me. I hope Theo realizes how fortunate he is to have two healthy, living parents that adore him. By the way that he treats them, I’m sure he does.
Today, Mrs. Edwards sits between Theo and me. She wraps one arm around me and the other around him. She plays with our hair. It reminds me of what my mom used to do when I was little. She faintly sings gospel songs, barely above a whisper. I rest my head on her shoulder and am about to close my eyes when Shelby enters the waiting room.
“Hey, any news?” she asks, yanking me up to stand.
“Nothing new.”
She escorts me away from the Edwards family so we can chat in private. She glances over at Theo. “So is Mr. Jerk Face still moping around?”
“Wow, he’s gone from Dr. Hotness to Mr. Jerk Face.”
Shelby giggles. “My, the mighty have fallen.” Her face gets solemn again. She wipes the hair from my face. “I’m really disappointed in him. I thought he’d snap out of it by now.”
I shrug. “Some things aren’t meant to be.”
She pouts. “But you still love him, don’t you?”
My eyes wander around to find Theo. He quickly shifts his eyes toward me as he stumbles out of the room again and heads straight into the men’s room.
“What do you think?”