Things Remembered (34 page)

“I'm perfectly capable of deciding whether or not something is too stressful for me to handle.”

“I'm sorry.” Apologizing was getting to be a habit lately, but Anna wasn't going to let her off without more concession. “It was presumptuous, but I was worried about you. And I figured it wouldn't help Heather if you wound up in the hospital, too.”

Suddenly conscious that Anna had been standing out in the hallway by herself, Karla looked around. “How did you get here?”

“Susan. She'll be in as soon as she parks the car.”

A group of people came toward them from the elevator. Karla used them as an excuse to move Anna to the maternity waiting room where they could sit down.

“How is Heather doing?” Anna asked when Karla handed her a cup of coffee.

“Bill didn't tell you?”

“I haven't talked to Bill.” She blew on the dark liquid in the styrofoam cup and took a tentative sip.

“Then how did you find out?”

“I left a message for Heather on her machine, and when she didn't call back I knew something was wrong. I tried to reach you at the coffee shop and the woman who answered told me you were gone for a few days with a family emergency. It wasn't hard to put the rest together.”

“We almost lost her,” Karla admitted. “It was really scary for a while. But Anna Marie is fine.” For this she didn't have to pretend or embellish her enthusiasm. “All she has to do is gain a few pounds and she'll be ready to go home. Maybe even before Heather.”

“She's so small,” Anna said in wonder. “Back when I had your mother there weren't many babies born that size who lived more than a few days. Everyone told those poor women that it was for the best, that their babies would have had a lifetime of problems, and now you hear about ones that are smaller yet who survive.”

“They don't just survive, the majority of them come through without any more problems than a full-term baby.” Karla had only the night nurse's word on that, but it was something positive to hang onto. She'd been gathering those positives for a day and a half now, like flowers for a bouquet she was saving to give Heather whenever she was frightened or depressed.

“Thank you for telling me that. It's hard to forget all those babies who died and realize it's not that way anymore.” Anna put her hands on the chair. “Now I would like to see Heather.”

“Shouldn't we wait for Susan?”

She pushed herself up. “Making me wait another five minutes isn't going to give Heather enough time for a miraculous recovery.”

Karla hated it when someone automatically assumed a person who was hard of hearing was stupid or that old age made someone childlike or feeble-minded. And yet she'd tried to maneuver Anna by distracting her, precisely the way she would Cindy. She took Anna's hand and put it through her arm. “At least let me try to prepare you for what Heather looks like.”

“I would imagine she looks like hell. You don't have a baby, lose half your blood, and have a major part of your body removed without consequence.”

“How did you know about the blood? And the hysterectomy, for that matter.”

“I called Pat.” She held onto Karla for support as much as balance, no longer trying to convince her she needed neither.

“Bill's mother?”

“I couldn't reach any of you and the hospital wouldn't tell me anything, so I didn't have any choice. Pat said she'd been too busy with the boys to get to the hospital so she hadn't seen Heather or the baby herself yet, but that Bill kept her filled in on everything that was happening.”

Karla could only imagine how the story had been embellished in the telling. Pat loved the dramatic moment as much as Grace but wasn't as good at pulling it off. “So you called Susan.”

“Just to take me to the bus station.”

“Knowing all along there was no way she'd let you take the bus to Salinas.”

Anna had the decency to look embarrassed. “All right, I admit there are times being a little old lady comes in handy and that I'm not above taking advantage of it once in a while. But do you have any idea how long it would have taken me to get here by bus?”

“I suppose I should be grateful Susan's an easy touch. I still wish you'd stayed home, even if you are the best medicine Heather will get today.”

“She made me promise I'd be here for the birth of this baby and there was no way I was going back on that promise.”

Karla knew as well as Anna what Heather had really meant. She wanted Anna to live forever but was willing to settle for marked special occasions. “After you see Heather I'll take you in to see Anna Marie.” Karla softened. Anna was already there. What good would it do to keep telling her she shouldn't be?

“Your great-granddaughter has your ears.”

Anna looked puzzled for a second and then smiled as she reached up to touch her ear. “I guess that's not the worst thing she could have gotten from me.”

“If I could give her something of yours, it would be your spirit.”

“That's a lovely thing to say.”

“It's not a bad way to feel, either.” Words of affection came hard to Karla. Even with Jim, when the occasion made it necessary to say something, she'd let fancy, expensive cards tell him how she felt. Cards could be ignored or thrown away without permanent damage. Words treated the same way had the power to destroy.

Karla stopped in front of the elevator. “I used to try to tell myself that it was Mom who guided me and Heather and Grace into becoming the women we are, that her love and caring was so strong when she was with us it lasted beyond her death. I think that's true for me, at least partially. But Heather is the mother and wife she is because she found that woman—she found herself—in you. She's worried that you won't be around to give that same gift to Anna Marie. What she hasn't realized yet is that her daughter will find you whenever she looks at her mother.”

Anna didn't say anything for a long time. Finally, her voice a rough whisper, she said, “Thank you, Karla. I know how hard that was for you to tell me.”

The elevator doors opened and they stepped inside. “After I finally stopped feeling sorry for myself for all I would miss, the worst pain of your mother's death came with knowing you girls would grow up without her and that for Grace at least, she would become nothing more than an image in a photograph. Of all the tears I shed, those were the ones that never stopped.”

“When you and Mom finally do see each other again, it's going to take years to catch her up on everything that's happened.” Was this one of the stages of grief she'd read about, the acceptance that Anna really was going to die? “I feel strange telling you this, but on the way back to Solvang I found myself making a mental list of things I wanted you to tell her for me.”

“Better write them down or I'll forget for sure.”

“I'm impressed. You've figured out a way to take things with you when you go.”

Anna chuckled. “Wouldn't that be a kick.”

“If you were allowed one thing, what would it be?”

Anna considered her question. “A jar of peanut butter.” She looked up at Karla and winked. “Just in case it's in short supply up there for my fudge.”

Chapter

25

A
nna was more frightened than she'd let Karla see. From the minute she'd found out about Heather she'd tried to strike a personal bargain with God, telling him she realized he wasn't getting much in exchange, but that she would willingly give up whatever time was left to her if he would spare her granddaughter's life.

She rarely questioned his reasoning and had never asked for personal favors—until now. It just wasn't fair for two sets of children in the same family to grow up without their mothers. Surely he could see that.

“I'm going to peek inside and see if Heather is awake before we go in,” Karla said.

Anna nodded.
Okay, God, if you want me, you can have me. I'm ready. Right now. No questions asked. I would like just a minute to tell Karla and Heather and Grace how much I love them, though. Heather and Grace know already, but I think Karla needs to hear me say the words again . . . maybe even a couple of times.

“She's awake.” Karla opened the door and stood to the side to let Anna come in.

She hesitated, waiting to see if her heart would stop, not wanting it to happen in front of Heather but in the hallway. Nothing happened. Either God wasn't in a bargaining mood or he was willing to give her Heather and still let her have her allotted time on earth.

“Are you all right?” Karla whispered.

“Just a little slow today.” Another lie easily told and accepted because of her age. She and Heather saw each other at the same time. The joy that came to Heather's eyes was a gift Anna would tuck away and savor on the cold nights ahead when she was alone in her room and unable to sleep.

“Grandma—” The rest was lost as Heather started crying.

She'd been right to come. Heather needed her. Knowing so brought a warm feeling to her tired heart. It was good to be needed.

Bill moved to give her his chair. She smiled her thanks. He was another gift she never overlooked when counting her blessings. If she'd been allowed to choose the perfect man for Heather, she couldn't have found anyone to match the one she'd chosen for herself.

She kissed Heather the way she had when she was a young girl, on the forehead, checking her temperature along with dispensing love. “You look like you've had a pretty rough couple of days. Want to tell me about it?”

Fresh tears spilled from the corners of Heather's eyes. Anna reached for a tissue and gently wiped them away.

“I didn't want you to come,” she said. “But I'm so glad you're here.”

“I'll stay as long as you want me to.” Anna settled into the chair.

“I was so scared. . . . It just happened, Grandma. . . . I didn't do anything. . . . I swear I didn't. I was in bed the way I was supposed to be and I just started bleeding.”

“Of course you didn't do anything. No one is blaming you for what happened.”

“I should have stayed home Thanksgiving. Maybe the trip was too much. The doctor—”

“Stop that right now,” Anna said sternly. “If you can show me that it will help you get better faster and back to your family sooner, I'll sit here and listen to that nonsense. If not, you either talk about something constructive or I'm going back to the nursery to be with my great-granddaughter.”

Heather moved her head closer and whispered, “Is she all right? Bill and Karla and Grace have been so worried about how I'll react if they tell me something's wrong that I can't trust them to tell me the truth.”

Now was not the time for evasiveness. Anna chose her words carefully. As she spoke, she put her hand on her chest and gently rubbed the tightness in her muscles. She'd either slept wrong last night or pulled something getting in and out of Susan's car. “I haven't seen her up close yet, but from the way the nurses were acting around her, and the way your sisters are fighting over who gets to hold her, I would say Anna Marie is doing better than her mother.”

“What does she look like?”

Anna wondered how many times Heather had asked the same question and why no one had thought to take a picture to give to her. “Now remember, I haven't been inside the nursery yet, so my observations are from a distance.”

“That's okay.”

“She was all wrapped up in a pink blanket and had a knit cap on her head. When Grace held her up for me to see, she had her mouth open in a big yawn. Afterward she blinked and looked around and made one of those faces that means someone was going to be changing the diaper soon.”

“Did she cry?”

“Not that I saw.”

“You said Grace was holding her?”

“As if it was something she did every day.”

“She wasn't afraid of her?”

“I didn't pick up anything like that, from either of your sisters.” Finally Anna understood. It was Heather who was afraid of her baby. Somehow they had to find a way to get her to the nursery so she could see for herself that Anna Marie was safe to love.

Heather started to cry again. She reached for Anna's hand. “I'm so glad you're here.”

Feeling like an intruder, Karla decided to find Susan and thank her for giving Anna a ride. She'd been right to be worried about Anna, but wrong to try to keep her away. She looked at Bill and motioned that she was leaving. He followed her out into the hall.

“Thank you,” he said and gave her a hug. “This was the best medicine Heather could get. She needed Anna.” He smiled wearily. “I guess there are times when only a mother will do.”

The statement sent a sharp pain through her chest and tears to her eyes. She blinked them away before Bill could see. “I didn't have anything to do with her coming.” There was more. “But I'm glad she's here, too.” The admission was like arriving at the far side of a swollen river, giving her both freedom and comfort.