A Family To Cherish. Carole Page Gift

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СКАЧАТЬ Janee looked small and pale and defenseless, like a broken porcelain doll, her head bandaged, bruises on her face and arms.

      Like another child so long ago.

      “Oh, Doug, she looks so bad,” Barbara whispered, clutching her stomach. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

      “How is she doing?” Doug asked the nurse.

      “The child’s sleeping soundly. I don’t expect her to wake for several hours. You may want to get some rest and come back later.”

      “But someone should be here if she wakes,” said Barbara.

      “Leave a number and I’ll call you the moment she stirs.”

      Barbara looked at Janee, then nodded. “You’re right. She’s sleeping soundly. We’ll come back later, but please don’t hesitate to call.”

      As they headed back down the hall, Doug said, “I’ve got to phone Pam and Benny. They should be here.”

      “Then what?”

      “I don’t know.” Doug ran his fingers distractedly through his thick, curly hair. “The nurse is right. We need some sleep. Paul and Nancy’s apartment isn’t far from here. Twenty minutes maybe.”

      “Then let’s go. We’ll need to contact people and…make arrangements.”

      Barbara waited on a sofa in the lobby, while Doug crossed the room to a pay phone and called his older sister Pam in Oregon. Barbara didn’t want to hear him repeat the painful news, didn’t want to imagine Pam and Benny’s shock and grief. She just wanted to be back home again, with everything normal, the way it was yesterday. But then again, what was normal? Barbara’s life hadn’t been normal for years.

      Nothing was normal without Caitlin.

      “Barb, they’re taking the next plane out of Portland.”

      Barbara looked up, startled that Doug had already finished his call. “How did they take the news?”

      “The way you’d expect. Shock. Disbelief. Tears.”

      Neither Barbara nor Doug said much as they drove the twenty miles to the renovated Victorian house in south San Francisco, where Paul and Nancy had an upstairs apartment.

      As Doug unlocked the door, Barbara murmured, “It feels strange coming here like this. Like we’re trespassing.”

      “I know, Barb, but it’s got to be done.” Doug opened the door, and they stepped tentatively into Paul and Nancy’s world—a quaint, cluttered apartment that embodied a diversity of styles, from traditional to modern to garage-sale chic. Floral wallpaper, dark mahogany woodwork and intricately carved cornices and moldings were counterbalanced by vinyl beanbag chairs, a leather recliner, a rattan sofa, pine bookcases, and a simulated black marble entertainment unit. Plants abounded—from ceiling to floor, on every table and windowsill: creeping ferns and climbing vines, small pots of violets and hanging baskets of petunias, and plant stands with large, leafy philodendron, all badly in need of watering.

      “Your sister made an art of clutter,” said Barbara, noting the books, magazines, canvases and sheet music strewn around the room. A guitar was propped in one corner, an easel in another. “I’d forgotten what a creative person she is.”

      “When I was growing up, she was always dabbling in something,” said Doug wistfully, picking up an unfinished still-life. “Always writing a poem, painting a picture, picking out a tune on her guitar.”

      “And what were you doing?” asked Barbara softly as she examined a charcoal rendering of Janee.

      Doug chuckled ruefully. “I was putting splints and bandages on my sisters’ dolls. I even tried operating on Pam’s favorite Raggedy Ann. Cut the thing nearly in two. Stuffing everywhere. Told her I was doing a heart transplant. She wasn’t amused.”

      Barbara gave him a gentle smile. “Even then you were preparing to be a great surgeon.”

      Doug grimaced. “And where’d it get me?”

      “You’re still a great surgeon. You just refuse to see it.”

      Doug let the unfinished canvas clatter on the coffee table, and countered, “How did this get to be about me?”

      Barbara looked away. She couldn’t handle this rift today. Some other time. “We’re both exhausted, Doug. Let’s get some sleep and talk later.”

      “Okay by me. I’ll grab a glass of water first.” He headed for the kitchen, and she followed. It was a clean, compact kitchen with more plants in the garden window and lots of curios and handmade knickknacks on the counters. Janee’s colorful drawings covered the refrigerator door.

      “Looks like Janee has some of her mother’s talent,” he said with a catch in his voice. He turned on the spigot and ran the water until it was cold.

      Barbara got two glasses from the cupboard and handed them to him. “Do you want me to fix us something to eat? I’m sure there’s something I could whip up.”

      He filled her glass and gave it to her. “No, I couldn’t eat. You go ahead.”

      “Maybe later.” They went down the hall to Paul and Nancy’s room and hesitated for a few minutes before lying down on the neatly made queen-size bed. “It feels strange being here like this,” said Barbara, easing herself down so she wouldn’t muss the chenille spread. “I’m too tense to relax. Maybe we should have stayed at the hospital.”

      Doug rolled onto his side and ran his hand soothingly over her arm. “Try to sleep, Barbie. We need our rest. We’ve got a long, hard road ahead of us, and we’ve got to be strong.”

      Stronger than we were when Caitlin died? she wondered silently. How can we be strong now when we still haven’t got past that loss?

      Barbara fell into a fitful sleep punctuated by vivid, exhausting dreams. She and Doug were climbing a mountain, trying to reach Caitlin, who stood perched on a precipice, crying for help. No matter how high they climbed, there was always more rugged terrain waiting to be scaled. When they finally reached the spot where Caitlin had stood, she was gone, and they were alone on the mountain, just the two of them, buffeted by dark winds, with the precipice yawning like a black hole below them. “We’ll fall unless we hang on to each other,” she told Doug, but when they tried to embrace, the winds and the darkness drove them apart.

      Barbara woke suddenly, her heart pounding, her face wet with perspiration. Doug was no longer in the bed beside her. An irrational fear seized her, coupled with the lingering memory of the black chasm. She bounded off the bed and rushed into the living room, her breathing ragged.

      Doug sat on the rattan sofa, talking on his cell phone. “Thanks, Jim, I’d appreciate anything you could do.” He hung up and looked at Barbara, his eyes shadowed with weariness. “I asked some of my old colleagues who are practicing in San Francisco to take a look at Nancy. See if they can help.”

      “Do you think they can?”

      “They’re going to talk with her physicians.”

      Barbara sat down beside her husband. “Did you get any СКАЧАТЬ