Two Sisters Times Two Page 14

Spring Thaw

  Leah sat alongside the hospital bed holding Brooke’s cool hand. Her sister was in a drug-induced coma in the ICU ward of Carolinas Medical.

  The first few days of her treatments had gone well. Leah spoke daily by phone with her, who in typical Brooke fashion said everything was great, that she was splitting her time between patient shuffleboard in the halls (winner getting a full body massage “if you know what I mean” from male nurse Barry) and five-course gourmet meals complete with battery-powered candlelight “to keep from blowing us all to Kingdom Come” with a real flame next to the oxygen tanks. After maybe five minutes of such glib repartee, Brooke would hand the phone to Dave who would step out into the hall and give a more informative if less engaging report—“The doctors are encouraged there’s been no adverse reaction,” “Her T-cell numbers are stable,” “Her white-blood count is starting to turn up.” Leah would’ve much rather been there to share Brooke’s trials, and tribulations, in the flesh. But she’d honored her sister’s adamant command that she maintain her own life and monitor developments from afar. After hanging up, she’d relay a summary of the day’s developments to Jodie and Penni in shared text messages—Brooke comfortable and singing loud; All’s well—no adverse side effects; A good day, critical numbers improving. She’d end all her text messages with the short-hand CFMI-LAL, meaning call for more information, love Aunt Leah. And her nieces each dutifully responded via text, Penni always with Thanks for being on guard, Aunt Leah (this in addition to having Randall speak daily with the trial’s attending physician, some rising young star named Liau) and Jodie with LOL, which Leah sometimes took as lots of laughs and other times lots of luck, depending partly on what she’d said in her text message but more on how she felt in her gut—did she need laughs or luck tonight?

  That routine had ended suddenly on the fourth day. Leah had called at her usual time—8 PM—only to have Dave pick up the room’s phone rather than Brooke. He seemed both out of breath and confused.

  “Who?”

  “Leah.”

  “Who?”

  “Your sister-in-law.”

  “What for?”

  “What’s happened?”

  The line went dead for a minute.

  “Dave Redmond speaking.”

  It was Dave and Brooke’s eldest son, Dave junior. “Davey, this is Leah. Where’s Brooke?”

  “They’re moving her to ICU, Aunt Leah. She wasn’t feeling well this morning. She started throwing up this afternoon. Then she went into convulsions about an hour ago. They finally got her sedated, but it took a while. It was horrible, Aunt Leah.”

  “What went wrong?”

  “They don’t know. Could be an allergic reaction to the drugs. Could be an attack of pancreatitis. Could be something else. They’ve got a rush on the bloodwork.”

  “So she’s in ICU?”

  “On her way there now. They had to free up a cubicle by rushing a post-op to step-down.”

  “Is your father O.K.?”

  Davey paused before responding. Leah knew he was looking at Dave Senior and making a professional evaluation (Davey was a psychotherapist). “He’ll be O.K. We’re gathering up her stuff to clear the room. There’s a nurse helping us. We’ll store it at the nurse’s station till we can get it to the car. Then we’ll go see Mom.”

  Leah wondered if he was talking to her or to his father. “I’m coming up there. I’ll leave within the hour.”

  Davey returned his focus to his aunt on the phone. “Please don’t do that, Aunt Leah. Driving overnight is dangerous and stressful. You stay put and call in the morning. We’ll discuss what needs to be done then.”

  “What number?”

  “Call Mom’s cellphone. I’ve got it right here and will keep it on.”

  “You’ll call if there’s any change?”

  “Aunt Leah, everything is changing right now.”

  “For the worse.”

  Davey paused. “If there’s something you need to know, I’ll call. Otherwise, get a good night’s rest.”

  Leah thought fat chance, but said, “You too.”

  Davey said, “We’ll try.”

  Leah said, “Me too.”

  The line had gone dead and the dial tone had come on before Leah could say “I love you” to Davey and his father and most of all to Brooke, wherever she was.

  She’d opted not to text or call Jodie and Penni. What would she say? What did she know, here two hundred fifty miles away? She assumed Davey would contact them but wished she’d asked him to. She packed an overnight bag before going to bed, lying on her back facing the dark ceiling with her processors on to hear a call. Whitfield had told her to leave the processors off, that he’d answer and wake her. But she’d left them on in silent vigil for Brooke. She was again struck by how much noise there was in the night, and not just Whitfield’s snoring. She heard squirrels on the roof or in the attic, owls in the patch of woods behind the house, an occasional car rounding their out of the way cul-de-sac, the fridge cycling on, and of course the furnace’s periodic rushing air. She heard the scream of some animal out in the dark. Her throat clenched in dread at the image of a mouse or chipmunk or squirrel seized by a predator.

  At some point she dozed off and dreamed of Brooke floating on the ocean. Standing on the shore, she could see her sister’s face—the young Brooke with long hair dark and slick as a seal’s and unlined tanned skin—when her body rose on each swell. Then her face and body would disappear into the valley of the wave, then rise again. She wanted to call Brooke in, tell her to stop fooling around. But her voice didn’t work. Then she realized the whole world was silent, like when she was a child. And Brooke was drifting out to sea, oblivious to her presence and calls from shore. Leah wanted to swim out there and claim her sister back, but she was afraid of the water, the soundless violence of the waves. Then she woke to a darkness as silent as her dream, only the tears filling her eyes a new guest.

  She’d called Brooke’s number at dawn.

  Davey answered first ring.

  “You must be exhausted,” she said.

  “Beyond that.”

  “How’s Brooke?”

  “Stable at the moment.”

  “And?”

  “She has sepsis. All her organ systems are impacted. They’ve put her into deep sedation so she doesn’t expend her strength fighting the symptoms or pulling at the tubes.”

  “The tubes?”

  “They’re supporting her with multiple IVs and oxygen. They may need to add a breathing tube if her oxygen levels fall much lower.”

  “That sounds bad.”

  “It’s very serious, Leah. With this kind of infection, an organ can shut down at any time and create a crisis.”

  “Her prognosis?”

  “They need to identify the bug. Right now they’re flooding her with a broad spectrum antibiotic mix. But if they can determine the source of the infection, they can target it with large doses of the most effective drugs.”

  “You father?”

  “He’s asleep in the family lounge.”

  “Did you call the girls?”

  “I talked to Penni last night. I’ll call her with an update a little later. Not everyone is up at dawn like you.”

  “And Jodie?”

  “I left a message. She hasn’t called back.”

  Leah thought to ask what the message was but chose not to intervene more than she already had. “I’ll leave after breakfast, should be there around noon. I’ll come straight to the hospital.”

  Davey took an audible breath—perhaps to protest, perhaps in warning. But all he said was, “Thanks, Aunt Leah. We could use your help.”

  She’d arrived as promised, the mid-morning mid-week drive through clear weather free of incident and largely free of traffic. She’d found her way to the ICU wing on the seventh floor and ran into Davey as he emerged from the large doors marked Authorized Family Members Only.

  His weary eyes brightened and he gave her a long hug. “
Thanks for coming,” he said straight into her left processor’s microphone.

  That close, the words had a strange receding echo, like in a canyon. When he’d straightened and stood above her—he was tall, like his father—she said simply, “She’s my only sister. I couldn’t not be here,” both dismissing his gratitude as unnecessary and establishing her right of presence in whatever would follow.

  Davey understood her full meaning and nodded acceptance. He liked is aunt and trusted she’d be a valuable ally if things got bad—well, worse even than at present—especially in dealing with his rogue half-sister. “Dad’s in with her now. No change from earlier, which everyone thinks is a good thing. Her blood pressure is still very low and her oxygen absorption is borderline. Dad signed the papers to put her on a ventilator and they’ll probably do that this afternoon, as a precaution.”

  “Can I see her?”

  “One visitor at a time, and you need to put on a disposable suit and booties and hair net. They let us leave off the face mask as long as you’re not sneezing or coughing.”

  Leah laughed. “Sneezing into a face mask doesn’t sound like fun.”

  Davey giggled.

  Leah had not heard him giggle since he was a toddler, at the family picnics they had back then.

  Between giggles he said, “In grade school, we would taunt each other by saying ‘I’ll turn your nose backwards so when you sneeze it will blow your brains out!’” The memory set off another round of laughter that sounded odd in the sterile and otherwise silent hallway.

  Leah shook her head. Such teasing was never a part of her childhood. After her nephew had calmed, she said, “Maybe I should wait to see Brooke. I can get a hotel room then come back later.”

  “Nonsense. You can stay in Mom and Dad’s guestroom. If you don’t mind, you could take Dad home now—he needs a nap and a shower—and bring him back later. We can work out an arrangement of shifts then.”

  Leah had nodded and did as instructed. She’d driven Dave Senior home, set her things in their guestroom, then made them each a sandwich from Brooke’s well-stocked fridge. She grinned at the sight of the homemade dinners in microwaveable containers labelled for each day of the week, including last night’s. Brooke had thought of everything, except her incapacitation.

  Dave was in shock, kept shaking his head and muttering, “She was fine yesterday.” Leah had always sympathized with Dave, in part because she understood all too well the controlling force being applied to his life. And now she was witnessing the price of that control’s sudden removal. She saw now how fortunate Dave was to have his namesake to watch over him in Brooke’s absence—but then that was her sister’s planning as well.

  After lunch, they’d both taken long naps, Leah lying on her back atop the spread on the guestroom bed, her processors left on in case of a call. She was fast learning a new skill—sleeping unmoving on her back with her head high on the pillow. Only the position was new—she usually slept on her stomach with her face turned to the left on the pillow—but she’d always been a still sleeper, as her world went blank soon as she closed her eyes.

  When she woke the shadows were long in the sun’s golden light streaming through the room’s west-facing window. She’d showered and dressed in jeans and a pullover sweater and comfortable walking shoes. She’d knocked on Dave’s half-closed door then peeked in to find him asleep atop their king-sized bed, fully clothed and with his shoes on. She shook him lightly. “Dave?”

  He woke wild-eyed. “Where’s Brooke?”

  “It’s Leah. Brooke is at the hospital.” She wondered at her choice of preposition. Was it a kindness to him or herself?

  Dave winced and shuddered violently. But once his body stilled, his face relaxed and his eyes lost their pain and confusion. “Then you must tell her to come home,” he said, managing a sad grin to accompany his words.

  “Tell her yourself—I’ll take you there.”

  “Can I clean up first?”

  Leah knew he was asking this of Brooke, part of their reflexive dialogue refined and polished over thirty years. “Of course,” she said. “I’ll pull out one of Brooke’s meals for an early dinner.” She wasn’t hungry after their late lunch but figured they should eat before heading to the hospital. Jasper was hypoglycemic and she was familiar with the risks of skipping or delaying a meal.

  “Thursday is three-meat lasagna, my favorite.”

  “Three meats?”

  “Hamburger, sausage, and pepperoni.”

  Leah smiled. “Leave it to Brooke.”

  “Yeah.”