Mom's the Word (20 page)

Karol had always thought that if she got a call like this, she would drop the phone and scream or do some kind of silly dance. Instead she stared at her refrigerator trying to think of something, anything to say. Joy and fear were running neck and neck inside of her.

“Mrs. Simon? Are you there? Do you understand what I'm saying? I'm offering you a publishing contract. Now if you'd like some time to think about it, that's perfectly fine. In fact, I recommend it. When Dyanne gets back, you can talk to her more, but we will need an answer by the end of the month. Do you have a literary agent?”

She managed a reply. “No, I don't. I tried to get one before, but didn't get any takers.”

“No problem. You have an offer now, so you should have lots of interest. Again, talk to Dyanne. She'll know who to recommend. I have to go, but I enjoyed the book so much that I just had to give you a call. By the way, are the kids calling you Mom again yet? Dyanne told me how you two got to know each other and how Ryan ended up helping her out on Fallon's book.”

How embarrassing. “Yes, they're calling me Mom again, but they were a little scared at first. I went a little crazy with that ‘Mom's the Word' thing. I'm not proud of it.”

“It worked, though. You wrote a book, made friends with your neighbors and got your son experience that a lot of college grads would kill for. I think the whole thing was pretty genius. In fact, if you decide to sign, what do you think about a two-book deal? One fiction and one nonfiction. The second book would be
Mom's the Word: 21 Days to Reclaiming your Name
or something cheesy like that. I'm no good with titles, but you get the idea, don't you?”

Karol slumped against her fridge. “Yes, I do. And I don't know what to say. I'm not really proud of how things happened, but I guess…”

“I understand. It's a whole lot at once. That's how it goes, you know. You go years with nothing and then bam, the flood. Anyway, I hope you come on board. Dyanne and editorial will take it from here. Nice talking to you.”

“And you,” Karol managed before sliding onto the kitchen floor. Meeting a bestselling author like Fallon had been as close as Karol ever thought she'd come to a book deal. This was too much.

Rob's prayer from that morning came to mind.

“Lord, I ask that you do exceedingly, abundantly more than we can ask or think regarding Karol's writing. Give her favor with people who can help her fulfill her purpose. In Jesus' name, amen.”

She pressed the number for Rob at work and waited for him to pick up. When he did, the shout Karol had been waiting for finally came out of her mouth. Both the kids came running. Karol waved them off, mouthing that she was just okay. They stood still, but didn't leave.

“What is it?” Rob asked. “Are you okay?”

“I'm more than okay. You won't believe who just called me.”

“You're right, I won't. Tell me.”

“Dyanne's boss. He wants to buy
Indigo Dawn
and possibly a nonfiction book, about the Mom's the Word thing—”

There was a thud at the end of the line and lots of moving around.

“Rob? Are you there? What are you doing?”

He picked up the phone again. “I'm here. Just doing my victory dance is all. I've been waiting to bust that move for a long, long time.”

“Well, I don't know. He said there would have to be changes and I need an agent and—”

“Stop it. God brought us this far. We'll get whatever you need. You just starting flexing your signing arm, Mrs. Author.”

Karol called the children to her, thankful for once that they hadn't listened to her. She hugged them close and handed them the phone.

“Here. Talk to Daddy.”

As the children held their ears close to the phone to hear Rob's version of the story, Karol sat up on her knees and lifted her hands.

“Thank you,”
she whispered.
“Thank you.”

• Detour from Baltimore to NY to see Dr. Ross
  
• Continue taking prenatal vitamins—just makes me feel better
  
• Talk to Dad about him and Fallon
  
• Make sure Ryan is getting enough rest
  
• Check sales
  
• Follow up with thank-you notes for first leg
  
• Buy ticket for Neal to meet us in NY
  

—Dyanne

“D
o you feel any better?” Fallon asked as she rubbed Dyanne's back.

With a plastered-on smile, Dyanne whispered through her teeth. “Don't worry about me. This is all about you. These people are here for you—Yes, I am her publicist. Radio interview? How about two o'clock. Yes, I remember where it is. We'll be there. Thanks.”

Fallon scrawled her name across the next book that Ryan held open for her. “Thank you,” she said, holding the reader's hand sincerely. “Thank you so much for coming out.”

There'd been a rush of people at the table, thirty or more, and everyone had questions. By now they had things down to a science. When things calmed down, the reverend walked through the store and passed out flyers directing people to Fallon's signing. Ryan stacked the books, held them open and slid in a bookmark after Fallon signed them. And Fallon, well, she was just herself. No putting on there.

She waved to Dyanne's father, who was on his feet with a stack of flyers in his hand. Fallon shook her head. “No, baby. We need to get Dee Dee back to the room to lie down. She don't look right to me, you know? All around her eyes and everything.”

Dyanne watched her father's eyes narrow with concern. He'd told her not to come on the trip, and now she wondered if he hadn't been right. Everything had been fine at first, better than fine when they heard the great news about Karol's book. Ryan had burst into the hotel room waving Fallon's cell phone over his head.

“The book! The book! Wallace Shelton wants to publish the book!”

This would have sent most people into a frenzy, but for a book publicist, a well-known author and a preacher who'd published quite a few books in his time, there wasn't much of an initial reaction.

That quickly changed.

“What are you talking about?” Dyanne had been deep in a blissful sleep, the kind she hadn't experienced in quite a while. Ryan had seemed like a figment of her imagination until he bumped into her bed.

Still not quite able to articulate the news, Ryan had turned in circles until he saw his mother's book on the nightstand. He snatched it up and held it over his head. “Mama's book! Mr. Chaise is going to publish it. He wants another book from her, too. A two-book deal!”

The party was on then. Dyanne was up on her feet and heading for the phone in Ryan's hand. She had to get the administrative details. Fallon and the reverend were dancing in a circle to an impromptu rendition of “Ease on Down the Road” from The Wiz.

As Karol explained the details of Mr. Chaise's call, Dyanne calmed her fears and referred her to several good literary agents. She had to cut the call short, though, and run to the bathroom to throw up. Everyone else in the room stopped singing.

That was two days ago and it'd been pretty quiet in their little group ever since.

Dyanne's father put down the flyers and pulled out his phone, dialing wildly but keeping his eyes on his daughter. She knew who he was calling—her husband. And for once, she was angry about either of them trying to take care of her.

“I've called Neal. He's going to go ahead and get an earlier flight. I hate to ask this, but are you bleeding? He says if you're bleeding I'm to take you to the hospital. Right now.”

Keep it together. You're working. You can't break down here.

“No, Dad. I'm not bleeding. I am going to get a cab back to the hotel, though—”

“I'll take you!” Both Fallon and Dyanne's father said at the same time.

The reverend shook his head. “No. You need to stay here. There's still another hour in the signing and some of these people are coming from a long way to see you. I'd love to leave Ryan to help, but I can take him with me, that way you don't have to keep an eye on him….”

They went back and forth about who would do what while Dyanne watched the room swim around her. She almost wished that she'd been able to recount the telltale symptoms that her father and Neal were looking for. Instead, Dyanne felt what she'd been feeling since before the “event” was even over—pregnant. It wasn't her body that worried her so much now, despite the morning sickness, nausea, vomiting and other symptoms that were playing a trick on her somehow, but rather Dyanne's mind that worried her.

She didn't want to go to another examination room only to be told the opposite of what her body was saying. When Dyanne thought she couldn't be pregnant, there was a doctor to bluntly tell her the error of her ways of thinking. When she thought that things were going great and envisioned herself as a beached whale on some Floridian shore, a doctor had given another pronouncement: you're not pregnant anymore. Whatever the next doctor might have to say, Dyanne was sure that she didn't want to hear it. She was also sure that she had to get out of this bookstore and out of this mall now…Right now.

“Oh, goodness, Kelvin. Where is she going? Look at her swaying like that. Come on, Ryan. We're all going. I'll run and tell the manager that I'll have to reschedule. I don't think there are many books left anyway.”

Dyanne would have normally insisted that Fallon stay until the last second of the signing and until every book was signed. This time, she couldn't do anything but hold on to her father and put one foot in front of the other.

As they headed for the entrance, the manager flagged down and thanked them for such a great signing.

“We sold out,” he said. “Best signing we've had in years. Please come back anytime.”

Dyanne managed a smile and nod before staggering out of the store and into a flood of strangers. There were people moving from every direction, most of them families with young children. In each little face it seemed that Dyanne saw the little girl from her dream. Anya Christine. And yet none of them were her. They couldn't be. Dyanne's baby was dead. And if she didn't get a grip on that fact, she wondered if she might not lose her mind. In a glimpse, she finally felt the full weight of what her mother had gone through again and again.

The air outside was hot but nowhere near as thick and humid as in Florida. Dyanne stopped on the way to the parking lot and held on to a pillar to catch her breath.

Her father's forehead knit together. “I think we might need to go to the hospital, Dee. Just to be safe. How long has it been since you had your hormone levels checked?”

Dyanne tried to think. “Two weeks? I missed that last appointment when we left but we'll be home Friday.”

“No. We'll find a lab here. I'll call your doctor. We need to make sure that the hormones are dropping and that everything is clear. If anything is left then there can be an infection. It could be bad.”

As they piled into the car, Fallon held a hand to Dyanne's forehead. “No fever but the chile looks as ripe as a melon. If I didn't know what I know, I'd say she was still—”

“Shhh…” Ryan finally said. He'd been quiet through most anything, reading between lines. “Just let her go to sleep.”

Dyanne closed her eyes and curled up in the last row of Fallon's hybrid SUV. She didn't want to go to the hospital, but at this point anywhere they could take her would be better than how she felt now. She closed her eyes and offered up a short, but effective prayer.

“Lord, help me.”

 

When Dyanne woke up, Neal was there. She blinked a few times to be sure, but it was actually him.

“Either I slept a very long time or you got on a very fast plane. I think Dad overreacted. I just got a little green. I guess it's to be expected.”

Neal rested his hand on her shoulder when she tried to sit up. “Not really. You shouldn't be throwing up or near passing out. Yes, your dad told me everything. I had the doctor in Tallahassee fax a lab request up here. We'll go out as soon as you feel up to it and have the test done at a walk-in lab.”

Technology. There was no way to get away from this. “I don't think that's necessary.” What she thought wasn't something Dyanne wanted to say out loud. She didn't have to. Neal said it for her.

“So what, you think you're going crazy? That it's all in your head?”

She was all out of defenses. “Yes. That's exactly what I think.”

The room, which Dyanne now realized had contained her father, Fallon and Ryan, emptied out quickly, leaving the two of them alone.

“You aren't going crazy, Dee. You just lost a baby. Things happen. We'll get it sorted out.”

Dyanne tried not to panic. She tried and failed. “I'm so tired, Neal. So tired of everything. Who knew that this would be so hard?”

Her husband, always there to support her, lowered his voice. “I'm tired, too. Trust me. We've got to figure this all out. All I care about now is you.”

What did that mean? She thought back to the concerns the doctor had when she decided against the surgery he'd suggested. One of the doctor's biggest fears had been infection. He'd said that a surgery then could prevent a surgery after, one that might ensure that Dyane never have children. And this, Neal's hands on hers, his lips on her cheek, was her husband saying that when it came down to it, she was all that he wanted.

If only she felt the same.

“They're publishing Karol's book.”

Neal smiled. “Yeah. I heard. You did well with that one.”

“Me? I didn't—”

“Sure you didn't. Come on. Let's get over to the lab. They're going to fax results to Dr. Ross in New York, also. He's coming in tomorrow morning.”

“He's coming in? For me? How—Neal I think you're totally overreacting. Like I said, it's probably all in my head….” Dyanne said as she got up and ran toward the bathroom.

A few minutes later, Dyanne leaned against the sink washing her hands. In the next room, she heard something she'd never heard before.

The sound of her husband's grief, heaving from his chest.