Part 30 (1/2)
”I would shut up, Mel, if you would just get me that epidural. And a doctor. I'd definitely shut up for a doctor. These labor pains are”-she gasped as another one took hold and shook her from the inside out-”painful!”
”I believe that's why they call them labor pains and not labor *owies,' ” Melanie said. ”You're just lucky that Scarlett Leigh didn't poke fun at the act of giving birth or I'd turn all the other laboring women loose on you.”
”Mel, please! If I had a white flag, I'd wave it. I can't fight with you and give birth at the same time.” She panted. ”Oh, G.o.d, don't they have surrogates for this? I could really use a stand-in right now.”
”All right,” Melanie said and moved closer. ”But later you'll have a lot to answer for.”
”What do we have here?” The voice was male and jovial, but it did not belong to Dr. Gilbert. The doctor who strolled in, not at all in a rush as far as Vivien could see, was Dr. Summers. And he was looking not at Vivi, who lay panting and miserable on the bed, but at Melanie.
”I need an epidural,” Vivi said through the useless panting and breathing. ”Now!”
”Well, now,” he said, barely able to take his eyes off Melanie. ”Why don't we take a look and see what's what?”
A nurse appeared to help Vivi into position, and a sheet was drawn up over her knees as Dr. Summers sat down on a stool and slid into place.
”It won't be long now,” he said. ”You're dilating nicely. You may not even need . . .”
”Doctor,” Vivien said through teeth that were clenched against the oncoming locomotive of pain. ”I want the epidural. Now. Sooner would be even better.”
Melanie moved closer, but which one of them she was approaching was unclear. ”Maybe you don't need it, Vivi. Maybe Bruce is right and . . .”
”I want my epidural now!” she repeated and mercifully an anesthesiologist appeared. Careful not to look at the large needle she'd made the mistake of reading about, Vivi let him lean her forward and swab a spot near the base of her spine.
After that the pain went away and left her alone. She could still feel the contractions, could tell something was happening, but it was all happening at an acceptable distance, muted and manageable. Her mind cleared, now that it wasn't running in fear from the onrush of pain, and she actually conversed with the doctor whom her sister kept calling Bruce and who tried, rather unsuccessfully, to act as interested in her and the baby he was delivering as he was in Melanie.
VIVI LAY WITH her son cradled against her chest. He was tiny and perfect and he had a wizened face that looked an awful lot like a prune.
”He's beautiful,” Melanie said. She and the kids stood next to Vivien's bed, peering down at the two of them. Her and her son. She thought the words for the first time and they didn't frighten her as she'd thought they would.
”He looks kind of like a little old man,” Trip said. ”Or a wrinkly peanut. Why is he making that face and scrunching all up like that?”
”He's going to the bathroom, stupid,” Shelby said. She put a finger out, and the baby grasped it instinctually in one of his tiny hands.
Vivien looked up at them. They all appeared as sh.e.l.l-shocked as she felt. In so many ways their lives had caved in today, the bedrock on which their family had been built crumbling all around them. When she looked into her sister's eyes, she saw fresh pain mixed with an old sadness, and she had to look away.
”I called Mom and Dad. I just thought they should know they had a new grandson,” Melanie said, reaching out to cup the baby's head. ”And I left another voice mail for Stone. And one for Marty, like you asked me to.”
”Has Stone called back?” Vivi asked.
”No. Not yet.”
”How's Ira?” Vivi had forgotten in the throes of labor and then she'd been afraid to ask.
”He's in CCU; they're trying to get him stabilized. Ruth couldn't come to the phone, but I spoke to their son. Their daughters are flying in tonight.”
”I hope he'll be all right,” Vivi said as the nurse came to take the baby back to the nursery. She was so tired she could hardly speak but oddly exhilarated at the same time.
”Me, too,” Melanie said and in just two words managed to remind Vivi that she held her personally responsible for Ira's heart attack. ”I'll probably stop by there before I come see you tomorrow. Saint Joseph's is just around the corner. And I'd really like to get hold of Angela.” The tight-lipped look she shot Vivi made it clear that the canceled wedding had been chalked up to her, too.
”Good night, Mel,” Vivien said, too tired to address all that was between them. Her limbs grew heavy and her thoughts slowed. ”Have to have a name for him before we leave the hospital,” she murmured. ”Wanted to wait for Stone, but . . . you guys'll have to help.”
Melanie snorted as Vivi's eyes closed. ”Only you could go through an entire pregnancy and never even think about what you were going to call your child.”
Vivi half smiled at the truth of it. Denial certainly was a b.i.t.c.h, but those days were over. And then she was off and dreaming. But like her life her dreams were a mixed bag of soft baby smells and her sister's pinched face and stark stories from the nightly news that didn't come with guaranteed happy endings.
RUTH SAT IN the tiny room in CCU watching the blip of Ira's heartbeats on the monitor. Her children and three of her grandchildren waited out in the waiting room. In the first few days while they'd waited for Ira to stabilize she'd thought she'd lose her mind. Then there'd been the angioplasty, and after that a coronary artery bypa.s.s graft. Ruth could hardly keep up with the medical jargon and was grateful that she had a son-in-law who could.
Through it all Ira had floated in and out of consciousness. He was there, but he was not. And although the doctors talked in purposefully cheerful tones and described what they were doing in what should have been rea.s.suring detail, Ruth had the horrible feeling that everyone was convinced Ira was going to die.
”Don't you dare,” she said to him on the morning of the fourth day as she held his hand and watched the blips pulse across the screen. ”After all these years, I finally got you to dance. I'm not letting you wiggle out of it now.”
There was a slight movement beneath Ira's eyelids and his lips jerked slightly, but even she wouldn't call them more than reflexive movements. No matter how long she held his hand or how hard she prayed, he rarely even opened his eyes.
”Come on, Ma,” Josh stood in the doorway, his eyes sliding over his father and then scurrying away. None of them could bear how quiet and still Ira was, how small he looked in the hospital bed. As if his life force had already departed and only the husk of him remained.
She had coffee in the coffee shop, with a daughter on either side of her, and sat in the waiting room with whichever family member or friend happened to be there at the time. But she refused to go home until Ira could go with her. When she was allowed back into his cubicle, she held his hand and watched the monitor, refusing to even consider a life without him. After all these years, surely G.o.d would not let that happen. Not now when they'd finally settled their differences, when Ira had promised to sell the business and had declared that he was ready for them to sail off into the sunset together. They had places to go and people to meet. Dance compet.i.tions to enter. Ruth decided then and there that she would not let Ira off the hook. She would not let him slip away. She explained this to him in no uncertain terms over the next days.
His eyes only fluttered open on occasion and he gave no indication at all that he could hear her. But Ruth talked to him anyway, pouring out her love and her hopes and when she couldn't help it, all of her fears. The fact that he didn't appear to be listening had never stopped her before; she certainly wasn't going to let it stop her now.
37.
FORTY-EIGHT HOURS AFTER her baby was born Vivien brought him home to Melanie's. The drive from the hospital was fraught with silence; the fragile truce that had held during her labor and afterward left no room for conversation or confidences. Vivien sat beside the car seat in the back of Melanie's van and fixed her attention on the baby the entire drive, unsure what she'd do if he fussed or cried and unable to meet Melanie's accusing gaze in the rearview mirror. He slept the whole time, not even waking when Melanie showed her how to detach the carrier so that she could carry him inside.
Vivien was as tired as he was, and she was also afraid. In the hospital there'd been nurses who brought the baby to and from her and helped her try to nurse; she'd known that in an emergency there were people who'd know what to do. Now she was responsible for another human being in every possible way, and the thought of everything she didn't know how to do, from breastfeeding to changing a diaper, felt infinitely mysterious and frightening. The opportunities for s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g up seemed unlimited. And now when she needed it most, she didn't know if she could count on Melanie's help.
The smell of food greeted them when they stepped inside. They found Evangeline humming happily as she cooked in Melanie's kitchen. Her face broke into a smile when she saw them and she put out her arms immediately for the baby. ”Isn't he precious?” she said, cuddling him to her chest and tucking his head under her chin. ”He sure is a beautiful boy. And long? Between you and Stone, he's gonna be a baseketball player for sure!”
She kept the baby tucked up against her and still managed to fuss over Vivi at the same time. This was mult.i.tasking at its best.
”Is Caroline with you?” Melanie's voice was stiff as she and Vivien looked into the family room for their mother. Both of them let out sighs of relief when there was no sign of her.
”Nope,” Evangeline answered. ”But she did dis-invite that Matt Glazer bozo from the party she's planning and I heard your daddy on the phone with the paper getting him fired. They sent me here to you for two weeks.” She shrugged as she gently repositioned the baby in the crook of her arm. ”That's about as close to an apology as your mama is likely to get.”
Vivien and Melanie exchanged glances. One less thing to be dealt with for now.
”Now come on and have a bite and then I'll take Vivi and her little one upstairs so they can nurse. And then I'm putting them both to bed for a nice long nap.”
Evangeline handed the baby to Melanie so that she could fill their plates with heaping mounds of meat loaf and mashed potatoes and set them out on the kitchen table. Fresh-cut flowers sat on the counter and a small dresser with a changing pad on its top had been set up in an empty corner of the family room. Vivien sank into the chair with a sigh of relief. Now she had two people who knew what they were doing, and at least one of them was excited about helping. She tried not to worry about when she would hear from Stone. Who hadn't called. Or texted. Or emailed.
Or whether her sister would ever stop looking at Vivi as if she had single-handedly ruined all of their lives.
AS OFTEN AS she could Melanie held her new nephew. His powdery baby smell and great big blue eyes soothed and comforted her; the weight of him in her arms carried her back to her own first days with Shelby and Trip and the wonderful sense of completion that she'd felt. As she helped rock him to sleep or took a turn walking with him when he fussed, Melanie's mind wandered back to those days when everything had seemed so perfect.
Like a mountain climber clinging to bare rock, she held the filter through which she'd always viewed her relations.h.i.+p with J.J. in place and used her anger at Vivi and her sense of betrayal to keep it there. If Vivi hadn't started her ”investigation,” all of them would still be blissfully ignorant. Her sister had so much to answer for.
In her arms, the baby looked up at her and blinked sleepily.