The Language of Sisters (30 page)

“Uhhwaa,” Jenny moaned, turning her head back and forth on the crunchy-sounding pillow. Her dark hair was a mess; I hadn’t thought to bring a brush. I went to stand by her, my hand on her cheek, until the nurse returned with Dr. Fisher right behind her.

“Hello,” Dr. Fisher said, addressing Jenny as she checked the readout sheets from the monitor. She wore mint green scrubs and still managed to look regal. “What’s going on with you?”

“She’s been very agitated,” my mother repeated. “Nicole thinks something might be wrong with the baby.”

Dr. Fisher looked at me. “Why’s that?”

“Her movement seems down and Jenny is bothered by it, I think. I just want her checked out, if that’s okay. Just to be safe.” I suddenly noticed the room was cold and shivered violently.

“Of course,” Dr. Fisher agreed. “I’ll get the ultrasound in here so we can take a peek, all right?” She asked Doris to bring in the
machine, and after the nurse had left, she smiled conspiratorially. “So, I hear the sister of the pregnant girl in this room is a little edgy.”

“Let me guess. Doris?”

“And the operator at the paging service.”

“They’re both idiots. Totally insensitive to Jenny’s needs … ”

Dr. Fisher stopped me with her hand raised in front of her. “I know. I was just teasing you. You be sure to let me know if any of the staff gives you a problem. I inform them whenever I have a special case, but there’s only so much a warning can do.”

Jenny was groaning and watching us talk, her hands pressed between her teeth. When Dr. Fisher rolled the wand over her belly, Jenny moaned louder.

“Does everything look okay?” I asked, my breath a stone caught in the bottom of my lungs.

“Just a minute, please.” Dr. Fisher spent another minute or two watching the blurry image on the screen, checked the monitor’s readout sheets again, then turned to look at Mom and me as she picked up the phone next to the bed. “Hi, this is Dr. Fisher. I need an OR set up for an urgent delivery. Who’s on the nursing team tonight?” She paused. “That should be fine. Thanks.”

“What’s going on?” I asked, my heart rattling against my rib cage.

“The baby’s heart rate is very low. So is Jenny’s amniotic fluid.”

“What does that mean?” Mom asked, coming forward from her seat to hold Jenny’s hand.

“It means the baby isn’t getting enough nutrition or fluids from the placenta. You were right to bring her in. Next week’s appointment might have been too late.”

“Dear God,” my mother murmured.

“So you have to operate?” I asked.

“I don’t think the baby would tolerate a natural labor. Of course a vaginal birth is always the ideal option for mother and baby, and we could try to induce Jenny and monitor the baby’s response to the stress, but honestly, I’m afraid it might be too much for both of them.” She rubbed my sister’s arm, then continued. “As it is, I’m concerned about the baby’s lungs being ready to work on their own. She’s going to be fairly small, so there’ll be a pediatric team in the operating room, ready and waiting. We can do a spinal so you both can be in there with her. It’s probably going to be a bit scary for her, not being able to feel anything from the chest down, so I’ll need you to try and soothe her as much as you can.”

“I don’t know if I should be in the room,” Mom said hesitantly.

I whipped around to face her. “Why not?” I couldn’t believe she was backing out on me now, when I needed her most.

“I’m not very good with blood. I’m afraid I’d pass out and cause an uproar.” She reached out for my hand over Jenny’s body on the exam table. “It’s your baby anyway, Nicole. Yours and Jenny’s. It should be the two of you.” She sounded sincere; maybe she was right that it should be just Jenny and me bringing this baby into the world.

Dr. Fisher turned toward the door. “Whatever you decide is fine. I’ll see you in a few minutes.” Uncharacteristically, she winked at me before exiting. “Don’t worry about Doris. She asked to be assigned to another patient. Surprise, surprise.”

Mom squeezed Jenny’s hand and touched her daughter’s belly. “Did you hear that, Jenny-girl? The baby is coming very soon. Your sister is going to be with you and everything is going to be just fine.”

I took a couple of deep breaths to calm the chattering in my chest, then dropped into a chair. “I can’t believe this is happening.
I’m so scared, Mom.” My eyes filled when I looked at her. I never thought I’d need my mother’s support so much. “What was I thinking? How am I going to do this?”

“You’ll be fine. Look at all you’ve done already for your sister.” She smiled wistfully. “Every woman in the world who has ever expected a baby has been terrified of it at some moment. Then she holds that little baby in her arms. Suddenly she realizes her purpose in life. You two were mine. This baby will be yours.”

I sniffled, swallowed the terror in my throat, and tried to return her smile. “Thanks,” I exhaled. “I should call Nova. She’ll want to be here.”

“I’ll take care of that, okay? I’ll have Nova bring all the gear you’ll need and Jenny’s overnight bag. You just focus on helping your sister through this.” As she spoke, a different nurse entered the room, along with two strong-looking aides. The nurse smiled at us briefly, then walked over to Jenny’s side.

“Hi, Jenny. I’m Emily. I’ll be in the operating room with you, okay?” She was a slight thing, dark-haired and pale against her pink scrubs. She looked at my mother and me. “Are you both coming with us?”

“Just me,” I said, standing up and stepping forward. “I’m her sister.”

“Okay, Jenny, I have to start an IV for you so we can give you medicine if we need to. You’re going to feel a small prick in your hand, then a little pressure. You just let me know if I hurt you.”

Jenny watched Emily with wide eyes as the nurse completed the procedure but didn’t make a peep even as the needle poked through her skin. The two aides made sure she was secure on the bed before they maneuvered it through the door and down the hallway. Mom came with us to the OR’s entrance, then hugged
me after I slipped on a crinkling pair of scrubs. “You’ll do fine, honey. I’ll be right here waiting. For all three of you.”

“Okay.” I gulped. I followed my sister into the room, where, if all went well, I was about to become a mother.

•  •  •

The morning sun radiated through the hospital room’s drapes, casting oddly shaped shadows across the slippery floor. A gift from Nova—a white porcelain vase spilling over with yellow roses, white freesia, and burnt orange tiger lilies—sat on the windowsill across the room from where I gently swayed in a rocking chair, a new life resting in my arms. She was a wisp of a being—four pounds, six ounces—but otherwise, every part of her was perfect and in the right place. Ten fingers and ten toes and intensely blue, black-fringed eyes: the ghost image of my angel sister. She was eighteen inches long, but because Jenny’s placenta had stopped supplying adequate nutrition, the baby was born with virtually no body fat. Her little rear end was flat as a board, her silk-soft skin, red and wrinkled. She resembled a crone from a fairy tale, a wise old woman entering the world under the guise of a child. On the first day of her life, I wondered already what lessons she would teach me.

Both she and Jenny had weathered her birth well; it had been I who wept in fear as the surgery progressed. Jenny had wriggled a bit as the spinal numbed her, but I spoke to her constantly, both in my heart and out loud, so that others would hear my telling her what was happening: that the baby she had carried was being born; that all her discomfort was going to disappear; and mostly, that I thanked her from the bottom of my soul for giving me this gift. When Dr. Fisher held the baby up for us to see and I heard her wail with vivid resistance at being pulled from the safe, wet warmth of Jenny’s womb, my frightened
tears melted into joy. The pediatric team checked her vital signs thoroughly before declaring her a healthy, strong little fighter and handing her, warmly swaddled and searching for a meal, to me. Her mother.

“Did you see what you did, Jenny?” I whispered as I rocked. “She’s amazing. Thank you so much.”

My sister lay in the hospital bed, sound asleep. They had placed us in a mother-baby suite, where Jenny would stay until she had healed enough to be transferred to La Conner. Ms. Navarro had reassured me that Jenny’s place was secured and they were looking forward to her arrival.

I still ached with guilt every time I thought of leaving her there; I had become so accustomed to caring for my sister, seeing her every day, hoping for some sign, some blessing that might redeem me. Had I done enough? In coming home, had I made up for the years I had deserted her? I wasn’t sure.

I considered it as I sat there cradling this fragile infant in my arms. A soft rap on the door interrupted my thoughts. “Come in,” I said quietly.

Nova pushed the door open and came to sit next to me.

“Where are the kids?” I inquired.

“With my mom and dad. They all send their love.” She smiled as she slid a finger over the baby’s face. “How’re you two doing?”

“We’re great,” I whispered. “She’s glorious. Do you see how perfect she is?”

“Yes. She’s a beautiful baby. Absolutely gorgeous.” My friend turned her blond head to Jenny. “How’s Jen?”

“She seems fine. Dr. Fisher said the hysterectomy went well, but she’s drugging her up pretty good to make sure she’s comfortable. She hasn’t been awake very much.”

“So your mother decided to go through with the hysterectomy, huh?”

I nodded. “We both thought it would be best. Just in case, you know. So we wouldn’t ever have to worry about this happening again. And so Jenny won’t have to suffer through her periods anymore.”

Nova tucked a stray curl behind her ear and moved her finger over the baby’s face again. “She knows who you are.”

I paused, looking down at the child in my arms, joy and fear and sadness rushing over me in one fluid motion. “God, this is amazing. I just want to savor it.”

“I know exactly what you mean. I’ll get going in a minute.”

“I didn’t mean for you to leave—” I started.

She smiled again. “I know. But you need this time together. God knows you won’t have a moment’s peace once you move in with us.” She stopped as the door opened again and my mother came in, a basket full of fruit, bread, and cheese in hand. She held it up as she spoke.

“Another delivery. From your friend Garret. He’s waiting at the nurses’ desk.” She set it on the table, then gave me a meaningful glance.

I looked at Nova, genuinely surprised. “Did you know he was coming?”

She smiled. “I thought he might show up.”

Panic fluttered in my belly. “Well, he can wait. I’m busy.”

Mom bent down to caress her grandchild’s downy head. “And how’s Grandma’s sweetie doing? You’re a hungry bugger, aren’t you?” Nova moved to the window seat that doubled as an extra bed, and Mom sat down in the chair next to me. “Have you thought of a name for her yet?”

“I was thinking maybe Kyah.”

Nova tilted her head thoughtfully. “What does it mean?”

“Forgiveness,” I said, and my mother’s eyes glossed with tears.

Jenny groaned a bit from her bed, her eyes fluttering open at the sound of our voices. She blinked laboriously, glancing around until her gaze rested on my face.

“What do you think, Jen? Is our daughter’s name Kyah?” I interpreted a wide, wet smile as her blessing before she drifted back to sleep.

“Okay, this is killing me,” Nova said. “Can I tell Garret to come in?”

I softly fingered the pulsing spot on the top of Kyah’s head. “Do you know what he wants?”

“Well, duh. He wants to see you. And the baby.”

“Is Jackie with him?” I held my breath, waiting for her to answer.

“Jackie’s gone.”

I looked up to witness her smug grin. My heart banged a fearful rhythm behind my ribs, still unsure of what he might want. Knowing me well enough to take my silence as assent, both Nova and Mom left the room. Kyah had fallen asleep, her blue eyes closed, her tiny mouth open. I continued to rock, breathing deeply. A moment later, Garret appeared. He had dressed casually, jeans and black T-shirt; his hair hung messily around his handsome face. He entered without a word, his soft brown eyes reflecting a trace of the same hesitance I felt.

“Where’s Lucy?” I asked politely.

“With Nova’s parents. She’s very excited to see the baby, but I told her she’d have to wait for the next visit.” So there’d be another visit? I pondered. What did that mean? Did he want to give us another try? Or did he just want to be friends?

Garret stayed by the door, stepping uncomfortably from foot to foot. He waited for a moment before bobbing his dark head toward Kyah. “She doing well?”

I nodded. “Perfect.”

“How about Jenny?” He kept his voice low as he glanced at my sister’s peacefully sleeping form.

“Her, too.”

“I’m glad.” He took in a deep breath, his hands linked behind his back, pausing a bit before speaking. “What’s her name?” We were keeping the conversation safe; I felt the pressure of what we needed to talk about hanging over me.

“Kyah,” I told him, searching his face for what he might be feeling, the reason he had come. We were quiet for a moment, not looking at each other. I finally broke the silence, again choosing a safe topic. “Thanks for the basket. It’s lovely.”

“My pleasure.” He looked down, fiddling with the fold of his jeans.

“Do you want to sit down?” I offered. He nodded his dark head and moved to the window seat, lowering himself slowly, then turning his gaze to me.

I shifted Kyah over my shoulder, one hand resting softly on her fragile spine, feeling her little body expand and contract with each new breath she took. The thought of the tense first weeks I’d spent not talking with my mother about what truly needed to be talked about convinced me it was time to jump into the thick of things. No time like the present to get to the truth. “So,” I said, “Nova tells me Jackie’s gone.”

He nodded. “She left a few days ago, actually.”

“She stayed with you the whole time?” I tried to keep my words light, uninterested.

He paused, then nodded again. “Lucy wanted as much time with her mom as possible, so … ”