CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Stan ran up the staircase. When he reached Annabelle’s room, he grabbed hold of the doorframe and took a deep breath. He needed to calm down, treat Annabelle like any other patient.
As soon as he saw her, his heart plummeted. “It’s okay, kiddo. I’m here.”
Annabelle’s eyes stayed closed.
Her breathing was almost non-existent. Where was Mark? If he had any chance of helping his daughter, he needed what was in his medical bag.
Eileen passed Mia another washcloth. “We’re trying to reduce her temperature. The 9-1-1 operator is on the phone with me. The helicopter is five minutes away.”
“Thanks, Eileen.” He held Annabelle’s wrist. Her pulse was weak and erratic. “I need to check her skin.”
Mia helped him move Annabelle’s T-shirt above her chest. “What are you looking for?”
“Small, purplish, red spots.” While Stan checked her stomach and chest, Mia peered at her back.
“Like this?” She stood back while Stan looked at what she’d found.
He pulled down Annabelle’s T-shirt and gently laid her on the bed.
“I’ve got it,” Mark gasped from behind him.
Stan grabbed the bag and took out his stethoscope. He listened intently to Annabelle’s heart, dropping his chin to his chest when he heard a clear crackle.
Tears blurred his vision as he checked her legs, arms, and belly. There wasn’t any swelling, not yet. He squeezed her hand, letting her know he was still there. “It’s going to be all right, Annabelle. A helicopter will take us to the hospital. We’ll have you back on the ranch in no time.”
He held her fingers in the palm of his hand and checked her nails. Small, dark lines splintered across her cuticle, confirming what he suspected was happening. Annabelle had somehow developed Infective Endocarditis. It was an infection caused by bacteria entering the bloodstream and settling in the lining of the heart.
If left untreated, she would go into heart failure and die.
Eileen ran toward the window with her cell phone to her ear. “They’re here.”
Stan threw his stethoscope into his bag. “I’ll carry Annabelle downstairs. The paramedics can use a stretcher from there. Can you bring my bag, Mark?”
He didn’t wait for his brother’s answer. As gently as he could, he lifted Annabelle into his arms. Eileen ran ahead to make sure the other children didn’t go outside and Mia guided him down the stairs.
By the time he reached the front door, the paramedics were waiting for him.
“I’m Doctor Stan Lewis and this is Annabelle, my eleven-year-old daughter.” While they strapped Annabelle onto the stretcher, he told them she’d been born with a hole in her heart and had needed surgery when she was two days old. He gave them his diagnosis of what was happening, hoping it helped the medical team waiting for them.
With Nick and Mark’s help, they carefully carried Annabelle across the frozen ground.
As soon as the stretcher was in the helicopter, Mark wrapped him in a fierce hug. “Are you okay?”
Stan shook his head.
“Annabelle’s strong,” Mark said. “The hospital in Billings has one of the best trauma centers in Montana.”
“I couldn’t bear to lose her.” Stan’s voice broke and his world started to crumble.
Tears filled Mark’s eyes. “Be strong. We’ll meet you at the hospital as soon as we can.”
“We’re ready to leave, Doctor Lewis,” the paramedic said. “Your medical bag is beside your daughter.”
Stan followed him into the helicopter. He sat down and looked for Mia. She was standing with Nick, her pale face reflecting the shock he was feeling. The door closed and before his seatbelt was clicked into place, they were in the air.
He silently watched the paramedic assess Annabelle, then turned to see his brother’s ranch disappear over the horizon.
With trembling hands, he wiped the tears from his eyes. He hadn’t prayed in a long time. But today, sitting in the back of the helicopter with Annabelle, his heart was at breaking point. If he lost his little girl, he didn’t know what he would do.
So he closed his eyes, imagined Sandra beside him, holding his hand, being their rock that would guide them through the next few days. The ache in his chest became bearable and warmth filled his body. Taking a deep breath, he poured his deepest, darkest, fears into the space between heaven and earth, hoping someone was listening.
Because whatever happened next was out of his control.
***
Mia sighed when Mark pulled into a parking space at Billings Clinic Hospital. The thirty-minute journey seemed to take forever. Mark had tried reassuring them, but nothing he said had lifted the silence inside the truck.
She held her grandfather’s arm as they walked toward the sprawling hospital. “This is bigger than I thought.”
“A lot of people say the same thing.” Mark pointed to the entrance. “Head that way. The hospital is a Level III Trauma Center. If you need emergency medical care, this is where you want to be.”
“How many times have you been here?” Mia asked.
“Too many to count. We need to go to the second floor.”
They walked past the main reception desk and headed toward the elevators.
Mark pressed one of the buttons and they waited. “Stan’s meeting us outside the Intensive Care Unit. It won’t be long now.” He glanced at Nick. “How are you feeling?”
“I am fine. It is Annabelle I am most concerned about. Has Stan sent another update?”
Mark checked his phone. “No, but we’ll see him soon.”
They stepped into the elevator with another group of people, jostling to the back so that everyone could fit.
Mia looked at Mark. He was leaning against the back wall with his eyes closed. After what had happened, he must be feeling every bit as distraught as his brother.
She touched his arm.
Mark opened his eyes, staring at her with the same questioning look that Stan often did.
“How are you feeling?” she asked.
“I’ve been better.”
The elevator pinged. Someone held open the door while they maneuvered around everyone to get out.
Mia and Nick followed Mark toward a wide corridor. Their footsteps echoed on the vinyl floor, sending chills down her spine. She remembered walking down another corridor, in another hospital, praying that her dad would come home with her.
Mark opened another door and rushed toward Stan. “How is she?”
Stan hugged his brother. “The cardiologist and infectious disease specialist have been reviewing her scans and blood cultures. They’re prepping her for her first infusion of antibiotics. I need to go back inside.”
He stood in front of Mia and hugged her tight. “Thank you for coming.”
His whispered words brought tears to her eyes. She knew how hard this must be for him. “We’ll wait here.”
Nick patted Stan’s shoulder. “We are all wishing Annabelle the best. Go and see her. We are here for both of you.”
“I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
The door into the Intensive Care Unit closed. Mia waited a few minutes before looking around. There was a room on the right-hand side that looked like a visitors’ waiting room. “Do you think we can we sit in there?”
Mark pulled out his cell phone. “I can’t see why not. I need to let Eileen know what’s happening, but I can’t use my cell phone on this floor. I’ll be back in a couple minutes.”
Mia walked into the spacious room. Big, comfy sofas, a cluster of single chairs, and a table full of magazines filled the room. She chose a seat overlooking the parking lot, hoping the movement of traffic would distract her thoughts.
Nick sat beside her, holding her hand. “It is like another time, is it not?”
Tears fell down Mia’s face. “Except this time, everything is going to be all right.”
Nick’s fingers tightened on hers. “That is what we all want to happen.”
***
Mia opened her eyes, frowning at the noise coming from the corridor. She looked at her watch and yawned. It was two o’clock in the morning.
Nick and Mark had left the hospital three hours ago. They’d driven back to the ranch to make sure Eileen and the children were okay. Stan thought she’d left with them, but at the last minute, she’d changed her mind. She didn’t want to be too far away in case anything happened.
Before Mark and Nick left, Annabelle was stable and the antibiotics the doctors were giving her seemed to be working.
The fluorescent lights flicked on.
She held her hands over her eyes, shielding herself from the blinding white light.
“Oops, sorry,” a woman said. “We didn’t realize anyone was in here.”
Mia stared at the man and woman, blinking her eyes to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. They looked like they’d stepped out of a scene from a fairy tale. The woman was wearing a floor-length, deep blue dress with enough sparkly sequins to light a Christmas tree. The man had tight blue breeches, a red waistcoat, and a shirt with big puffy sleeves.
The woman looked at their clothes. “We’ve been to a Thanksgiving Day party. My sister…” She held her hands to her face and burst into tears.
The man pulled her into his chest. “Laurel’s sister was involved in a car accident. She’s in ICU.”
Mia swallowed. “I’m sorry. Would you like me to get you something to drink? There’s a coffee machine farther along the corridor.”
The man shook his head. “I’ll get something soon. I left my wallet in the car.”
“It doesn’t cost anything,” Mia said quickly. “I’m happy to help.”
The man hugged the woman in his arms. “That would be great. I’m Paul.”
“Hi, Paul. I’m Mia. I’ll be back soon.” She left, glad to have something to do. Even though a nurse had given her a pillow and a blanket, she hadn’t been able to sleep.
She stopped and frowned at the man sitting in the corridor.
“Stan?”
He looked up, just as confused as she’d been. “Mia? I thought you went home with Mark and Nick.”
“I changed my mind. I couldn’t leave you here alone. How’s Annabelle?”
“She’s okay. Her temperature is down and she’s not as restless as she was yesterday. I thought I’d leave the ward for a few minutes while she sleeps.”
He looked exhausted. Deep lines were etched into each side of his mouth and his skin was as pale as the wall behind him. “Have you been able to get any sleep?”
“I closed my eyes for a few minutes, but I can’t sleep.”
She kissed his cheek. “I’ll be back in a minute. I’m making coffee for some people in the visitors’ room.”
“I’ll help you.”
They walked silently down the corridor. Mia filled two mugs with black coffee and Stan grabbed a handful of creamers, sugar, and plastic spoons.
By the time they arrived back at the visitors’ room, Laurel wasn’t crying.
“Here you go,” Mia said as she handed Paul the drinks. “If you need refills, turn right out of this room and keep walking. You can’t miss the coffee machine.”
Laurel smiled. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Mia led Stan out of the room. “Your brother gave me strict instructions before he left.”
“He did?”
Mia nodded, glad to see something other than bone-deep grief in Stan’s eyes. “He wants me to make sure you have something to eat. Have you eaten anything since breakfast?”
Stan shook his head. “No.”
Mia forced herself to smile. “Well, it’s just as well I like exploring. I found a café that sells the most delicious mac and cheese on the planet. If you let the nurse know we’ll be gone for ten minutes, I’ll buy you some.”
Stan looked anxiously over his shoulder. The sign above the doors to the Intensive Care Unit glowed against the white walls. “I can’t leave. Annabelle might need me.”
“You could check to make sure she’s still sleeping? We’ll only be a few minutes.” Mia held his hand. She knew what it was like to make decisions when you were tired and overwhelmed. “It will be okay. You need to keep up your strength for Annabelle.”
His hand tightened around hers. “Okay. But we can’t be gone for too long.” He stepped toward the ward. “Are you coming?”
“To see Annabelle?”
He nodded.
Mia swallowed, fighting the nausea that welled inside her. “Okay.”
Stan didn’t move. “Are you all right?”
“I haven’t been inside an Intensive Care Unit since dad died.”
“I wondered why you didn’t visit Annabelle yesterday. You can stay here, if it’s easier.”
Mia lifted her chin. When she’d been alone in the visitors’ room, she’d thought about her life, about the years since her parents had died. She’d spent too much time worrying about things that weren’t important. Too much time worrying about what other people thought. She needed to live her life on her own terms, not someone else’s.
She smoothed out the wrinkles in her T-shirt and pushed her hair behind her ears. “It’s time I faced my fears. Besides, I’d love to see Annabelle.”
Stan sent her a tired smile. “There aren’t many machines around her. But the nurses have inserted a PICC line into one of Annabelle’s arms and a catheter into the other.”
“What do they do?”
“The PICC line is connected to a bag of antibiotics that travels into her bloodstream. The nurses use the catheter when they want to draw a blood sample or give her other drugs. By the time she goes home, Annabelle won’t need the catheter, but the PICC line will stay until she’s finished her treatment. Are you ready to see her?”
Mia nodded. Stan opened the door, pointing toward the sanitizer on the wall. She squirted the clear liquid onto her hand, listening to the sounds of the machines saving people’s lives.
When she was ten years old, the hiss of the ventilator had been the worst. It was the one machine her dad couldn’t do without. The first machine the doctors had silenced.
She felt Stan’s arm around her waist.
“This way,” he whispered.
She walked beside him, looking straight ahead so that she didn’t invade what little privacy anyone had in an ICU ward.
Annabelle was in her own room beside the nurses’ station. She looked so peaceful that it was hard to imagine the struggle her body was going through.
As Stan moved closer to his daughter, Mia sat on the edge of a chair. She looked around the room, at the bag of antibiotics hanging from a pole, the machine monitoring her heart rate, blood pressure, and oxygen levels.
It was all so familiar, yet different. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. The smell of the antiseptic rolled inside her stomach. She clenched her jaw, willing herself to take one more breath, to release too many years of grief for something no one could have changed.
When she opened her eyes, Stan was watching her. She brushed the tears off her face and focused on Annabelle. She had such a long way to go before she was well again. The doctors would be doing more tests to see if her heart valves had been damaged by the infection. If they had, she would need surgery. But if the tests showed that everything was okay, Annabelle could be home in another week. For five more weeks, she would be given intravenous antibiotics. She would have to be careful, but there was nothing Annabelle and Stan couldn’t handle once they got through the next few days.
Stan walked around the bed. “Let’s go,” he whispered.
On their way out of the ward, he stopped at the nurse’s station and told the staff he would be back soon.
Mia kept her gaze on the doors to the corridor. Halfway across the room she realized why. It wasn’t because she was worried about intruding on other people’s lives. It was because she was scared of seeing someone who reminded her of her dad.
It had been twenty years since she’d said goodbye to her parents, but in all that time, she hadn’t been able to let them go.
***
Mia stepped into the elevator and pushed the button for the third floor. “I found the café after granddad and Mark left. I went downstairs to say goodbye and when I came back, I stopped on the wrong floor.”
“You got lost?”
“You’re only lost when you can’t find your way back. I prefer to think of it as a slight detour.”
The metal doors slid open. Mia stepped into an open space that looked exactly like the second floor. “The café’s down here.”
Stan followed her along an empty corridor. According to the directional signs, they were heading toward the cardiovascular department. “Are you sure you’ve got the right floor?”
Mia’s grin made him almost smile. “Trust me. I know what I’m doing.”
“Aren’t you the same person who gets lost in supermarket parking lots?”
“Only when I’m distracted.” She pointed to a corridor. “Down there. It’s so out of the way that I’m surprised anyone eats here.”
“Assuming that we aren’t lost, will the café be open at—” he looked at his watch, “two-thirty in the morning?”
“They’re open twenty-four hours a day, but after eleven o’clock they have a limited menu. I think it’s mostly for the staff, but anyone can eat there.” She pointed to another sign. “Look. The Big Catch. That’s the name of the café.”
He walked into the brightly lit room, surprised to see other people eating. “I thought we would be the only ones here.”
“So did I, but it makes you feel less lonely when you see someone else.” Mia handed him a tray. “I’m buying dinner, or breakfast, or whatever you want to call it.”
“I’m so tired that I don’t care what meal it is. What are our options?”
Mia peered at the blackboard menu behind the counter. “Mac and cheese, pizza, chicken nuggets, and beef pot pie. If you missed my recommendation the first time, the mac and cheese is awesome.”
“You wouldn’t be addicted to your favorite meal would you?”
“Only a little, but there are worse things to crave.” She smiled at a man standing behind the counter.
“Twice in one night?” he said. “You must have really liked my mac and cheese.”
“I loved your mac and cheese. This is my friend, Stan Lewis. He hasn’t eaten since breakfast yesterday.”
“What can I get you, Stan?”
He didn’t have to think too hard. “I’ll take the mac and cheese and a coffee.”
“Make that two,” Mia said. “I’ll have a diet soda and a loaf of garlic bread, too, please.”
The man behind the counter gave them a number. “Leave your trays with me. I’ll be over soon with your order.”
Mia held Stan’s arm. “Let’s sit in a booth by the window.”
Not long after they were seated, their server brought their drinks and garlic bread to the table. “The mac and cheese is five minutes away.”
“Thanks,” Mia said. “Five minutes is perfect.” She cut the loaf of bread in half and passed the plate to Stan. “Try this.”
“Don’t tell me. It’s the best garlic bread you’ve ever tasted?”
“Not quite, but it’s a close second.” She rubbed the scar on her hand. “Can we talk business for a moment?”
Stan didn’t care what they talked about. Just being with Mia made him feel better. “What business do you want to discuss?”
“I called Hannah and Claire last night. If you’re happy for them to help, they’re able to organize the rest of the gala for the neonatal unit. When I’m back in Bozeman, I’ll give them a hand before I leave for San Francisco. What do you think?”
“I think that’s a very generous offer. Are you sure they’ve got the time?”
“They’re making the time. Because of our super-duper organizational skills, there isn’t a lot to do until the actual night. Do you have someone who can help Gina while you’re not at work?”
“I contacted the person who manages the hospital when I’m not there. She’s happy to help.”
“That’s great.” Mia bit into a piece of garlic bread and pushed his plate closer. “Try some.”
Stan took a slice. Mia might look sweet, but behind her clear blue eyes and innocent smile was one of the most determined women he’d ever met.
He bit into the bread and sighed. “You’re right. It’s good.”
By the time they’d finished their first slices of bread, the rest of their order arrived.
Mia watched Stan as she sipped her soda. “Tell me what you think of the mac and cheese.”
He dipped his fork into the pasta. It looked and smelled better than he thought it would. He put some in his mouth. “It’s delicious.”
Mia picked up her fork. “I told you it was good.”
He bit into another slice of garlic bread. “So is this. You said this is the second-best garlic bread you’ve ever tasted. Who makes the best garlic bread?”
Mia’s smile disappeared. “My mom did. Dad used to say it was better than anything he’d ever tasted.”
“You don’t talk about your mom and dad very much.”
Mia looked at her hand. “I know. I was thinking about my parents after Nick and Mark went home.” Her eyes filled with tears. “I’ve bottled up so much in my life. Annabelle asked me ages ago why I paint. I told her it’s because I like how my paintings make other people feel. But that wasn’t entirely true.”
“What is the truth?”
“I need to paint because it’s the only way I’ve learned to deal with my emotions. When I paint, I can be angry or sad or disappointed. I transfer those feelings onto my canvas and don’t have to deal with them in real life.”
“Maybe you are dealing with them, just in a different way from most people.”
Mia’s eyes deepened to the color of a stormy sky. “It was my fault.”
“What was your fault?”
She left her fork on the table. “That my parents died,” she whispered.
Stan was confused. “They died in a car accident.”
She clenched her fist around her scar. “On the day they died, I went to my friend Penny’s house after school. She had a new puppy and I wanted to see it. Mom didn’t know where I was and when I called her, she was upset with me. I asked if I could have a sleepover. She wanted me to come home, but I pleaded with her. In the end, I stayed at Penny’s.”
Mia’s eyes filled with tears. “We decided to do some cooking. Mom never let me cook with oil. She said it was too dangerous. For some reason, I wanted to make hot fries. It was nearly eleven o’clock at night and everyone was asleep. I burned my hand with the oil. Penny’s parents called mom and dad. They were coming to the hospital to see me when a drunk driver hit them. If I’d gone home when mom told me or not made the fries, they wouldn’t have died.” She wiped her face with her hands. “You’re the first person I’ve ever told.”
Stan wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “I know it’s hard for you to believe, but it wasn’t your fault they died.”
“I didn’t listen to mom. As soon as I burned my hand, I knew I was going to be in trouble.” Mia turned into his shoulder, holding him as more tears fell down her face.
He pulled her into a hug. He knew what it felt like to live your life with regrets. All he could do was be there for her, offer what little comfort he could.
When she finished crying, she reached for the wad of tissues their server had left on their table. “I’m sorry. You’ve got enough to worry about without me crying on your shoulder.”
“I shouldn’t have asked about your parents.”
She shook her head. “No. It’s okay. I need to talk about them more often.” She wiped her eyes. “It’s just hard to speak about them when I’m tired. I tend to get emotional when I haven’t had a lot of sleep.”
“If it’s any consolation, you’re not the only person who blames themselves for things they can’t change. For a long time, I blamed myself for not realizing Sandra had cancer. Guilt can eat you alive, Mia.”
“Why did you feel guilty?”
“I’m a doctor. Sandra had been tired for months, losing weight, and complaining of sore shoulders. I thought she’d been exercising too much, taking on too much responsibility at a new mothers’ support group she’d joined. It wasn’t until she found a lump under her armpit that we realized it could be more serious.”
“How old was Sandra?”
“She was twenty-five when she was diagnosed with stage four breast cancer. It had metastasized and spread to her spine, liver, and brain. She died seven months later.”
“I’m sorry.”
Tears filled his eyes. “I don’t know what I’ll do if Annabelle dies.”
Mia knelt on the bench seat, holding his face between her hands. “She’s not going to die. She’s responding really well to the antibiotics. You said yourself that the doctors are happy with her progress.”
“She’s still got a long way to go. If the valves of her heart have been affected, she’ll need surgery.” His voice broke. “She could still die.”
Mia held him in her arms. “Annabelle’s in the best place to fight the infection. She’s strong, Stan. If anyone can pull through this, she can.”
For the first time since he’d left his brother’s ranch, he cried. He cried for Annabelle, for his wife, and for all the times he’d pushed his feelings aside so that he could simply survive. He hugged Mia close, wanting so much more for himself and Annabelle.
When the worst of his tears were gone, he took a deep, shuddering, breath. “Thank you.”
Mia kissed the side of his face. “You’re welcome. Our server brought us more tissues.”
He took the tissues from Mia, smiling through the last of his tears. “We might have to tell him that it wasn’t his mac and cheese that made us cry.”
“I think he already knows,” Mia whispered. “When I was here earlier, another person was crying. I guess it comes with being in a hospital.”
Stan wrapped a strand of Mia’s hair over her ear. “What did I do to deserve a friend like you?”
“I was thinking the same thing. Maybe we were supposed to meet all along. It just took a while to find each other.”
He looked into her eyes, searching for something that he didn’t know if he deserved. “What do you want to do now that we’ve found each other?”
Mia’s smile brought more tears to his eyes. “We could see if you’re ready for a girlfriend who loves mac and cheese?”
“I’d like that.” He leaned forward and gently kissed her. “Thank you for staying at the hospital.”
“I couldn’t imagine being anywhere else. Are you ready to go and see Annabelle?”
“I am.” Stan kissed her once more before they left the table. He didn’t know what the next few days would bring, but whatever happened, he wouldn’t have to face it on his own.