Miracle (64 page)

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Authors: Deborah Smith

BOOK: Miracle
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“Breathe slowly,” the emergency-room doctor said. “Calm down.”

Amy lay back on the gurney and nodded. “I’m just scared. When I woke up and found blood—”

“It’s not uncommon in a pregnancy. It doesn’t mean that you’re having a miscarriage.”

Amy shook her head. “You don’t understand. I can’t let anything go wrong with this pregnancy.”

“We’ll keep you in the hospital overnight, and tomorrow you can see your obstetrician.”

“I don’t have one in Los Angeles. I’ve been traveling for the past few months. I’ve carried my records around with me and gone to doctors in whatever city I was in. I’ve been fine, just fine! Until now—”

“We can arrange for you to see one of the staff obstetricians and have some tests.”

“Good.”

“I’ll have someone tell your husband that you’re being admitted.”

“My husband?”

“The man who’s asleep in one corner of the waiting room. He’s under a potted tree.”

“Appropriate.” She held her head and tried to think. What could she do about Elliot? She couldn’t desert him. “He’s not my husband. He’s a friend.” Elliot had helped her sneak out of the hotel suite without alerting Frau Diebler to the problem. Amy smiled grimly when she thought of the diligent nurse unsuspecting and asleep in the midst of a major-league crisis that would be worth another Armani with a Chanel scarf as a bonus.

The doctor shifted with embarrassment. “Excuse me, but is your friend drunk?”

“You noticed.” She rubbed her stomach protectively. “He helped me get here. I don’t think he can make his way back to the hotel alone. Can he sleep in my room tonight?”

“I’m sure we can arrange something. I’ll be right back.”

The doctor squeezed her arm and walked away. She stroked her stomach and talked urgently to the baby, trying to give reassurance with hands that shook.

“Twins.” The obstetrician grinned at her and pointed to the video screen where the movie of the week—her sonogram—was playing. “Fraternal twins. A boy and a girl.”

Amy stared in shock. “A boy and a girl.”

Frau Diebler, her expression like a thunderstorm over the Rhine, sat in a chair beside the examining table, taking copious notes and asking clinical questions. She was in a very bad mood over last night’s deception. This time Amy wondered if there was any way to bribe her silence.

No wonder the kicking was rough. They had a coed chorus line
. The obstetrician continued talking, telling her that bleeding wasn’t uncommon with twins, that although there were many more complications and risks to consider, everything looked fine.

“Risks?” She froze on the word. “What risks?”

He described the list of potential problems, pausing occasionally to remind her that she could relax, that everything looked fine, except that she needed more rest. By the time he finished talking she was in emotional agony.


Ja
, I’ll have to call the doctor about this,” Frau Diebler said darkly.

Amy twisted toward her. “Don’t overreact. There’s nothing wrong.”

“Twins! Bleeding! Frau Miracle, this time I cannot—”

“I don’t want Dr. de Savin to worry about me. He’s not going to find out about these twins until I decide to tell him. You can shop all you want, and I’ll pay, as long as you keep my secrets. You talk, and you’ll be out of a job so fast your sauerkraut won’t have time to sour. I’ll make sure of it.
Do we have an understanding
?”

“I’m flexible, yes. But … I’m not
too
flexible. I have my professional pride to think of.”

“Which means?”

“You have to stop working. No compromise on that.”

“I agree. I’m not going to take foolish chances. But you won’t tell Dr. de Savin that I’m having twins. There’s no point. It will only upset him. Are we clear on that?
He’s not
going to find out that I’m having twins
. I’ll tell him myself, when the time is right.”

Frau Diebler sighed. “I like you, Frau Miracle, I really do. I don’t want to complicate your personal problems with Herr Doctor. All right, I won’t say anything to him about the twins. But you
must
cooperate with me in every way possible.”

Amy grasped her hand and shook it vigorously. “It’s a deal.”

“Would you like for me to go get your husband?” the obstetrician asked, staring from her to Frau Diebler in puzzlement. “I used to watch Mr. Thornton’s show all the time—”

“He’s not my husband. I’m not married. Would you ask him to come in, please?”

After the doctor left, she listened distractedly as Frau Diebler muttered about more vitamins and more rest. Keeping this news from Sebastien made her feel disloyal and deceptive. She argued with herself.
He’s so afraid that this pregnancy will hurt you. Do you want to put him through more hell by telling him about the twins? All he can do is worry
. On the screen, the two babies looked perfect. Amy found herself crying and smiling at them.

“My God, two for the price of one!” Elliot said, when he was slumped in a chair by her stomach. “They’re incredible! This looks like a
National Geographic
special on satellite photography! Look, there’s Texas! I see the Alamo! What are you gonna name ’em? Let me name ’em!”

“Calm down.” She patted his head.

“You’ve
got
to call Le Doctor Kildare about this.”

“No.” Wearily she conceded that she’d made up her mind. She prayed that Sebastien would understand her reasons, after the twins were born safe, healthy, and beautiful. She explained to Elliot.

He loved being part of a secret, especially one that involved Sebastien. “You can trust me,” he assured her with a solemn nod.

“I’m gonna quit working and find a quiet place to hole up for the next few months.”

“Wait a second!” He crabbed her hands. “I know what
we can do! We’ll get an apartment! I’ll play male nurse! I’ll take care of you!”

“Not while I’m still breathing,” Frau Diebler interjected.

“Elliot, sweetie, right now you have mustard on your neck from lunch. You can’t even take care of yourself.”

His crestfallen response was no joke. All the defeat of the past year sank into him. He looked at her with troubled, pleading eyes. “I’ll sign up for an outpatient rehab program. If you and I stick together, maybe I can accomplish something. I swear I’ll try, baby. I’ll go to booze school every day, and then I’ll play nurse for you and the bambinos.”

“Elliot, I can’t let you do that—”

“Please. If you need me, instead of me needing you, it gives me inspiration to go straight. Crazy, huh?”

“Crazy enough to make sense, I guess.” But she wasn’t going to take chances with Elliot and his erratic moods. She didn’t know when he might go off the deep end again, and what might happen if he did. She took his hand and squeezed it. “I can’t take you up on the offer. I need my privacy, Elliot.”


Ja
,” Frau Diebler added, glaring at him.

“But, baby—”

“No. I’m sorry.”

“What if I move into an apartment nearby? Like maybe we find two places in the same complex. Please.
Please.

His desperation tore at her. She wanted to help him. Despite every demeaning, selfish thing he’d done to her over the years there had also been times when he was thoughtful and giving. He had always been loyal, in his insecure way, and she owed him for the help he’d given her career, even if he hadn’t always been magnanimous about it. “All right. Being neighbors might work.
If
you go into an outpatient program and stay sober.”

“Let’s do it.” He looked happier than she’d seen him in months. “Who knows, baby, when I get respectable again you might decide to give me another chance.”

Frau Diebler snorted in dismay. Amy said something lighthearted, trying to keep the peace, but felt a wave of claustrophobia. The next three months would be a crucible,
and she had a panicky need to keep her escape routes open.

“How are you feeling?” Even when hampered by poor phone connections, Sebastien’s voice was compelling. Loneliness and doubt washed over her. She glanced around her hotel room, feeling isolated. “I miss you,” she answered.

“I miss you, too. That’s an understatement. Believe me.”

“But I’m glad that you can’t get away to visit me. I look like I swallowed a beach ball.”

“Frau Diebler says you’re healthy. That’s all that matters. Is it true?”

“Yeah, sure. No problems out of the ordinary.”

“What do you mean?” he asked quickly.

She laughed. “My feet hurt, my ankles swell, and I have giant hooters that are gonna smother me if they get any bigger.”

“Ah. Send me a picture of
those.
” Relief and amusement were evident in his voice. “But otherwise, you feel good?”

“Yes.” It saddened her that he never asked about the baby, as if by ignoring it, it didn’t exist. But now that there were
two
babies—her secret—she was almost grateful for his attitude.

She wound the phone cord around her fingers so tightly that they began to go numb. “I feel good, but I’m a bloated cow, and audiences are beginning to
moo
at me when I’m onstage, and I stay tired all the time, so … so I’m gonna stop working and sit out the next three months in an apartment. With Frau Diebler, of course. We’re looking at some places in the suburbs. With nice San Fernando Valley views of highways and other overpriced apartment buildings.”

“If you’re not working anymore, you should come here.”

“I can’t, not unless I take a boat. My obstetrician just grounded me. No flying. Standard rule, he said.”

“I’ll charter you a special flight. With a private doctor. You’ll be fine.”

“No, I can’t do that. It’d probably be safe, but … I think it’s better for me to be here.”

“Better for you not to be around me, you mean.” He said it without rebuke, sounding tired. “I wouldn’t try to upset you, love. I’d keep my opinions to myself.”

“Doc, you and I are two strings on the same violin. Even if you vibrate without making a sound, I feel it. I always have.”

After a moment of silent thought, he said grimly, “For once, I wish you and I weren’t so close. It would make this easier.”

She forced a chuckle. “You know that I’m not very good at being helpless around you. I’d just waddle around in a dither, trying to take care of
you
, and you’d worry about
me
, and we’d drive each other crazy.”

“That’s not a good reason.”

“Please, Doc, try to understand. I’ll let you know the second I decide on an apartment. This’ll only be until February, you know. I’m due then.”

“I’ll be there during your last two weeks. I don’t care what I have to arrange here in order to get away.”

“I’m glad. I want you to be with me. Would you like to go into the delivery room and coach me? I know some men don’t get a kick out of—”

“Dear Miracle. I’ll not only be in the delivery room, I’ll be supervising every hand that touches you. You might as well warn your obstetrician about me now. I want to be with you at every moment.”

He’s going to be all right, she thought happily. He’s excited about this. I can hear it in his voice
. “I’ll tell him,” she promised.

“I might not be able to change one mistake, but I’ll certainly prevent any others.”

Her pleasure faded. Softly, trying to hold back her anger and disappointment, she told him good night and hung up the phone.

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