Vital Signs (20 page)

Hailey stopped crying and glared at her sister. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“Well, if you never let yourself care, you never get hurt.”

“Well, I
did
let myself, and look where it's landed me.”

“You're still on the list to adopt, you're approved to foster, and you'll get a baby soon. Your feelings for Roy shouldn't have anything to do with David.”

“But they do. The two things are interconnected. I'm withdrawing my applications to foster
and
to adopt.”

“Hailey, don't do that. You'll feel different once you get over this. There'll be other kids you'll love just as much as you love David.”

That was hard to believe at the moment, hard even to imagine. She did love David, and the pain she felt at losing him was devastating. And worst of all was her love for Roy. She'd trusted him and he'd deliberately hurt her.

“If you want my honest opinion,” Laura said— Hailey didn't particularly—“I think Roy is great, considering that he's a guy. He did what he believed to be best for David, even knowing you'd hate him for it. That takes a special kind of integrity.”

“That takes a real mean streak. And I don't hate him.” Hailey's tears started again. “I…I love him. That's why it hurts so much.”

Laura sighed, wrung out the cloth and put it over Hailey's eyes. “This happy-ever-after stuff is such a crock. I'm never going to read
Cinderella
to Sa
mantha again. I bought a gallon of chocolate-maple-nut ice cream. You want some?”

It didn't cure anything, but it helped.

 

R
OY PHONED
at seven-thirty the next morning, waking her up.

“Meet me for breakfast? There're things we need to discuss.”

“We don't have anything to say to each other, Roy. It all got said yesterday.”

“That's not so.”

She heard him take a deep breath and then expel it. “I love you, Hailey. I didn't say that before, and I should have.”

It would have meant everything to her the day before yesterday. Now she had a wall around her heart, a barricade that kept her from letting anything else in. The silence stretched.

“I won't give up,” he said quietly. “I'll keep calling, and I'll keep telling you how I feel. And I'll be keeping a very close eye on David. I'll let you know how he's doing.”

The rat. He knew she needed to know that David was safe. He knew she'd take his calls, just because of that.

She couldn't stay home. She got in the truck and drove to Sam and Ingrid's. Gran was up, swathed in a black-and-silver Oriental housecoat. She took a look at Hailey's swollen face and poured her a mug of coffee.

“Sam had an early call. They're shooting that movie downtown and he's a stand-in for one of the actors. You want an omelet?”

“I'm not hungry, Gran. I need to tell you what's happened. David's gone back to live with his mother, and it's Roy's fault.” The story poured out, and this time Hailey made it through without crying.

“I'm so sorry, honey.” Ingrid put her arms around her. “I know how much you were counting on having David.” She patted Hailey's shoulder, and it felt soothing and comfortable. “But I don't agree that it's Roy's fault.”

Hailey reared back, shocked. “Of course it is. He made the recommendation. He told me the judge goes by what the social worker says.”

Ingrid shook her head. “You told me how that little boy cried for his mother. Replacing a person isn't easy, and it's not always the answer. I think I would have done the same if I were Roy. The way to support kids is to support their mother.”

Hailey had never gotten really angry at Ingrid, but she did now.

“How can you say that, Gran? You, of all people. Mom was alone after Dad died, and all you ever did was fight with her. You were good to Laura and me, but you sure didn't support Mom.”

“I know I didn't.” Ingrid looked stricken. “All of us have things we're sorry for, and that's a big one with me. I should have tried harder with Jean. I got my back up about certain things she said to me about your father, things I just couldn't countenance. Ed was my only son, and I never forgave her for it.”

“I suppose she told you that Daddy had affairs with other women.”

Ingrid nodded, and her eyes sparked with fresh anger. “She shouldn't have told you that. He was
your daddy and you were close to him. There was no need for you to think badly of him after he was gone.”

“The first I heard of it was yesterday.” Hailey told Ingrid what was going on with Laura. “Mom sort of blurted it out. I don't think she meant to.”

“Well. See, again I jump to conclusions. I should have settled this with Jean a long time ago. I think it's time now. I'll do my best to make peace with her.” Ingrid hesitated, then added, “But I want you to think carefully about Roy, Hailey. From what I've seen of him, he's a good man, and he seems right for you. I've made lots of mistakes, and I know how they haunt a person. I want to keep you from making one here.”

Why does everyone keep taking his side?

“I don't trust him anymore. Trust is a big thing between two people.”

“Ah, my Haileybop. Don't cut off your nose to spite your face.”

When she got home, Hailey turned off her cell phone and ignored the numerous messages from Roy. It was hard to get ready for work, although she was relieved she was on evening shift, because Margaret would already have gone home by the time she got to St. Joe's. She wasn't sure if she could stop herself from physically attacking the older nurse if she saw her.

She made sure she arrived right at shift change, so there wouldn't be a lot of time for questions about David, but everyone wanted to know what had happened. They knew he'd been discharged, and that
Shannon and a social services worker had picked him up.

Hailey told the story again, weary to death of going over it.

The other nurses were sympathetic and outraged at Margaret's role in what had happened.

“She's handed in her notice—she's taking early retirement,” one of her co-workers said. “I heard it from someone in the personnel office. She'll be gone at the end of September. Nobody's gonna miss her, that's for sure.”

That night, for the first time she could ever remember, Hailey counted off the hours she had to work, longing to go home. When the new shift arrived and hers was finally over, she made her way out of St. Joe's, weary to the bone, squinting in the harsh sunlight as she headed for the parking area where she'd left the truck.

Her heart gave a thump and her mouth went dry because Roy was there, wearing shorts and a rumpled green golf shirt. He was leaning against her truck, and he straightened his long body and smiled at her. His eyes were bloodshot, as if he hadn't slept a whole lot.

“Can I interest you in some breakfast, Nurse Bergstrom?”

For an instant, passion leaped across the barrier she'd created. She wanted to throw herself into his arms, because only there would she be at peace. But David's round little face swam between them, and the pain cut into her heart. The peace would be
shortlived—only the length of time it took for the passion to ebb and resentment to take its place.

“I can't.” She looked at him, shook her head and told him the bald truth. “You hurt me, and I'm scared you'll do it again.”

“You'd end what there is between us just because you're scared?” There was temper and challenge in his tone. “I thought you were braver than that.”

“Well, you thought wrong.” She dragged her keys out of her bag and walked around him to open the truck door. “Don't call me, please. Don't wait like this again. It's over.”

“Don't do this, Hailey.”

She was too tired to argue with him. She started the truck and backed out. As she drove away, she wasn't even crying.

S
EVEN DAYS
passed.

Laura helped dismantle the crib in the room that was to have been David's, and that same day Nicole got the court order, just as she'd said she would, and Laura and the kids moved back into their house. Frank had packed up his belongings and taken most of Laura's jewelry, as well as any paintings he considered valuable. He was still making threats, but Laura was no longer affected by them. Nicole had done a fine job of making her aware of her rights,

Hailey thought she'd be happy at having her privacy again, but the night her sister left, she wept. The house was empty and echoing without Laura and her niece and nephew.

In the two weeks that followed, Hailey volunteered for extra shifts. She and Margaret avoided each other as much as possible, and the older nurse no longer nagged about the way Hailey did her job. Maybe she sensed that Hailey would explode if she confronted her.

Roy called at least every other day, and Hailey was polite and distant. But inside, her emotions were like a volcano about to erupt. She resented Roy and she loved him. She couldn't stop herself from miss
ing him, wanting him, or blaming him for the gaping hole David had left in her heart.

She asked Harry Larue about David one morning.

“Saw him just the other day,” the pediatrician said. “He's doing great, eating well, healthy and happy. Want me to tell his mother you were asking about him?”

“Definitely not.”

“Sorry.” Harry avoided her eyes and hurried off. Of course he knew the whole story. Everyone knew. The nurses no longer asked about the baby she planned to adopt, and no one talked about David.

On her break, Hailey stayed at Laura's and deliberately turned off her cell phone. It wore her down, Roy's calling all the time. She helped the kids with homework and watched videos with them while Laura had a sleepover with Michael. On Sunday she and Laura cooked a roast and invited Jean for dinner.

Hailey watched her mother taking stock of Laura's house. When Frank had lived there, he'd demanded that it be kept in perfect order. Now it looked lived in, with shoes in a heap at the door and video games spread across the carpet.

Samantha and Christopher talked nonstop during the meal, telling their grandmother all about the puppy Laura had promised they'd get the following week.

“Daddy never let us have a dog,” Samantha said. “He told us dogs make lots of mess, but we're gonna clean up the mess, right, Chris?”

“Right. And Daddy's not coming back to live here, so we get to keep the puppy, right, Mom?”

“Right.”

The kids clapped, and Hailey saw the scandalized look Jean gave Laura. When the kids were excused, Jean said, “That's disgraceful, Laura. It sounds as if the children are choosing a dog over their father. Frank called me. The poor man's beside himself. I keep hoping you'll come to your senses.”

Hailey was proud of her sister for smiling at their mother and saying, “I already have. That's why we're getting a puppy.”

 

H
AILEY WAS ON
day shift the next morning, and as she was stowing her things in her locker, Karen breezed in.

“Hailey, hey, did you hear about Margaret?”

“What about her?”

“She had a heart attack last night—she's in intensive care.”

A feeling of relief momentarily swept through Hailey, followed by a fierce pang of guilt. What kind of horrible person was she, feeling relieved because someone was ill?

“Is she going to be all right?”

“They're not sure—it was fairly major. She was alone when it happened, but somehow she managed to call 911. And guess what?” Karen couldn't hide her excitement. “There's a message for you at the desk. You're to call Melissa Clayton-Burke. I'll bet you anything she asks you to take over for Margaret.”

 

K
AREN WAS RIGHT
. Melissa asked if Hailey would become acting head nurse on the pediatrics ward.

Hailey hesitated. She'd turned down opportunities in the past to be head nurse, mostly because the job she loved was direct patient care. As head, she'd spend less time with patients and more on administration. She'd be responsible for all the patients in peds, instead of the ones assigned to her. But if she said no, someone would be assigned who didn't know the department or the kids. Reluctantly she agreed.

When she arrived to start her shift, the others all knew, and a cheer went up. It was gratifying to have the support of her co-workers.

Her heart sank, however, when Mary said, “Brittany's bad—she had a really difficult night. I called her doctor and he ordered more meds, but she's still pretty miserable. Her temperature's up, and she's struggling to breathe. We called her mom about an hour ago, and she's taking the early-morning ferry over.”

They were all quiet for a moment. Each of them knew that Brittany's disease had spread to her lungs and this relapse meant it wasn't likely she would survive much longer.

“She's fought so hard for so long.” Hailey could feel sorrow like a hard, tight lump, right under her heart. “Maybe it's time for all of us to let go.”

The others nodded agreement. Hard as it was, they knew that the time always came when some children needed permission from those around them, from those who loved them, to leave. Sometimes the child's parents intuitively did exactly that, but more
often it became the nurses' job to gently explain that it was necessary.

“I'll speak to her mother when she gets here.” Hailey knew Susan Whitcomb really well; they'd become friendly during Brittany's many admissions.

Hailey hurried to Brittany's room, relieved to find the little girl deeply asleep.

The first couple of hours convinced Hailey that administration wasn't where she wanted to spend the rest of her career. In the midst of playing a game with one of the kids, someone paged her because she was wanted on the phone. She was responsible for scheduling tests. Any problems with food trays were hers to sort out, and the constant interruptions began to wear on her.

When she had time, she checked Brittany again and found the little girl awake.

“Hey, chickadee, how's it going?”

Hailey hid her shock at Brittany's appearance. Even with oxygen, the fragile girl was laboring for breath. One glance told Hailey that she was nearing the end of her short life. Children often had a clarity about their eyes when the end was near, an otherworldly radiance. Brittany's gray eyes had it now.

“Your mom's coming soon,” Hailey said as she gently did all she could to make the child more comfortable. “Let's straighten this sheet. It's all crumpled up under you. Want me to read to you?”

Brittany gave her head a slight shake. She looked so small and alone in the hospital bed.

“Want me to hold you?”

Brittany's nod and attempt at a smile were heartbreaking.

Hailey slipped off her shoes and got on the bed, praying there wouldn't be any interruptions. She gathered Brittany into her arms and rocked her gently.

“Don't be scared, honey.” Her voice was thick with grief, but she held the tears back. “When it's time, the angels will come and get you, and nothing will hurt anymore.”

“How…will…I know?” It seemed such an effort for her to speak.

“You'll hear the music.” For Hailey, the effort was just as overwhelming. She wanted to cry, but she couldn't let herself do that. Not yet, not while Brittany needed her to be strong.

Brittany whispered, “Mama?”

“Your mama understands. She knows it's getting hard for you now. She'll be okay. She's a really strong lady.”

The little girl nodded, and it seemed to Hailey that her breathing eased just a trifle. Time passed, and as long as she could, Hailey ignored the hands on her watch, the tasks that needed completing. At this moment nothing was more important than being here. At last Brittany fell asleep, and Hailey gently, carefully, slid the child out of her aching arms and climbed off the bed.

The rest of the morning was frantic, and it was past lunchtime when Brittany's mother, Susan Whitcomb, hurried up to the nurses' station.

“She's sleeping—she's slept most of the morn
ing,” Hailey told her, hugging Susan and drawing her into the nurses' lounge, thankful that it was deserted.

“Brittany's bad, isn't she?” Susan's eyes were wide and fearful, and her hands were trembling around the coffee mug Hailey handed her. She looked drawn and terribly strained.

In answer to her question, Hailey nodded. “Yeah, she is.”

Susan's eyes welled up with tears and her voice wobbled. “Is it…is it time?”

“Almost.”

Susan moaned in agony, and Hailey got up and took the other woman in her arms.

“I think she's holding on for you,” Hailey explained. “I think it's time to let her know that it's okay to go when she's ready.”

“God, Hailey,” Susan sobbed. “I'm not sure I can do it. It tears me apart, I…I love her so much.” When the tears slowed, Susan blew her nose hard. “You know, I was only fourteen when she was born.”

Hailey tried not to reveal her shock. Susan looked much older than twenty-six.

“I was a wild kid. My boyfriend was an older guy, all of seventeen.” Susan attempted a smile, but tears leaked steadily from her tired eyes. “He ran away when he found out, and everyone said I should give her up for adoption, that I was too young to raise her. I was going to, but then when she was born, I held her, and she looked up at me as if she knew me, and I just couldn't do it, you know?”

Hailey felt hot and then icy cold. She thought of David, of Shannon. She really didn't want to hear this, but she couldn't walk out on Susan. Besides, Susan's situation was totally different from Shannon's, wasn't it? Susan was a conscientious mother. She'd never have deserted her baby.

“It was so hard, learning how to take care of her,” Susan was saying through her tears. “She had colic. I couldn't have done it without my mother and grandmother—they were both there for me. I remember a couple of times when I ran out the door and left them with Brittany when she was screaming.” She blew her nose again and stood up. “I'll go down to her room now and see if she's awake. And—” her voice faltered “—I'll tell her it's okay.”

“You've got my cell number,” Hailey said, holding back her own tears. “You call me if you need me, Susan, anytime, day or night.”

Susan nodded. “Thanks. Tom's coming tonight. His mother's staying with the boys. He'll be here with me.”

Hailey worked an extra hour that afternoon, doing her best to finish everything her new position demanded. By the time she was ready to leave, she was both exhausted and frustrated.

She stopped by Brittany's room. Susan was sitting on the bed, cradling her daughter. Hailey gave them each a kiss and wearily made her way down to the parking garage.

She was near her truck when it hit her full force. She'd just advised Susan to let her daughter go, be
cause it was best for Brittany. But what had Hailey done for David, for Shannon? She'd allowed her own overwhelming need to obscure the truth—that David really did need to be with his mother. The truth was bitter and agonizing, and she bent double with the pain. But even pain didn't last, and after long moments it ebbed into a kind of weary acceptance. Her hands trembled as she searched for her keys.

As she unlocked her truck, she gave in to the nagging little voice in her head. Cursing her conscience, she locked the vehicle again and went back into St. Joe's. She took the elevator up to intensive care, wondering just what the heck she was doing and why.

“She's improved somewhat since this morning—she's conscious and aware,” the nurse at the station told Hailey when she asked about Margaret. “You can go in for a few minutes. She doesn't have any other visitors.”

Hailey had only intended to find out how she was. Something made her ask, “Has anybody else been in to see her?”

“Melissa Clayton-Burke. Hers was the only emergency number Ms. Cross had listed. There was one next of kin, but it turned out to be an elderly woman with Alzheimer's in a rest home in Victoria. We didn't know who else to call. Is there anyone you know of?”

Hailey shook her head. How terribly lonely it must be not to have anyone to call in an emergency except the hospital administrator. Damn, she hated
feeling sorry for Margaret, but she just couldn't help it.

As she made her way past the line of beds, she hoped the former head nurse would be asleep, but she wasn't. Margaret turned her head and looked up at her. Strange, Hailey thought, to see the woman without her cap. Her hair was matted down, there were oxygen plugs in her nose and IVs in her arm. She looked old and sad and very sick. Again, Hailey felt a pang of sympathy.

“Hi, Margaret.” Hailey managed a smile. “I just wanted to say hello. Everyone on peds says hi. We're all hoping you'll be better soon.”

It wasn't strictly true. Hailey had heard the other nurses talking, and there wasn't much affection for Margaret in what they said.

“Is there anything I can bring you? Anything you need or want?”

“No. Thank you.” The words were breathy and faint.

“Okay.” Damn, this was awkward. “Well, then, you just concentrate on getting better, okay?” She turned to go.

“Wait.”

Hailey longed to pretend she hadn't heard, but she just couldn't do it.

“I'm…sorry.” Margaret's speech was labored. “Wasn't right…of me. But the boy…needed his…mother.”

Hailey could only nod. Why did every single person feel it necessary to tell her the same damn thing?
Maybe because she'd needed to hear it a number of times before she could accept it.

“You're…a good nurse, Hailey.”

For a moment, Hailey thought she was hearing things. She gaped at Margaret. Why was she telling her this
now?