“He was my first kiss,” she said, while Emerson grabbed a nurse and spoke to her tersely.
The nurse jumped in and said, “Ms. Caroline, we are so glad to have you here.” You could tell that she started to put out her hand and then withdrew it. She had obviously been told that I had no doubt she was highly infected with something disgusting. Probably hospital-acquired pneumonia. Yup. That’s what it looked like to me.
“This is our brand-new, state-of-the-art facility, and the good news is that you will likely be only the third or fourth person ever to give birth in this room.”
My breath was getting shorter.
“Relax, Caroline,” my mom said.
Have you ever noticed how someone telling you to relax makes you more uptight?
Emerson appeared beside me and handed me a cup of water.
“Have you completely lost your mind? Do you honestly think that I would drink hospital water?”
“OK,” the nurse said. “Here it is. Your big, beautiful birthing suite.”
There was a curtain. I looked at my mom. I didn’t have to say another word. “Ma’am,” she said, “is it possible to get that curtain taken down when Caroline is here?”
She scrunched up her face. “It’s here to give Ms. Caroline some privacy.”
I felt my strength returning. “No, that’s a great idea,” I said. “So my doctor washes his hands over here, touches this MRSA-infected curtain, and then comes and delivers my baby, transmitting deadly bacteria not only to the baby but also to me. That sounds like a swell idea. Has anyone in this hospital ever seen an OSHA report?”
“Oooo-K,” Emerson said. “Mom, I’m going to take Caroline to the car now.” She made a face at the nurse like she was sorry, but they should be sorry. Imbeciles, every last one. No wonder people came into the hospital and didn’t make it out.
“I’m going to have a home birth,” I said. “My midwife, Hummus, is coming anyway, and we can get one of those big birthing tubs and put it in the living room. It will be great. Everyone can help.” (Yes, my midwife was named Hummus.)
Emerson led me back through the double doors, and I started to relax immediately. I knew already that by the time I came to this hospital again, I wouldn’t feel like this. I would be in intense labor, and I wouldn’t care if I lay down in the parking lot to give birth.
“But, honey,” Emerson said, “then you won’t be able to have an epidural.”
Good call. I realized that my phone was ringing in my pocket, and I silently prayed it wasn’t James. I couldn’t take one more thing today. Nope. My friend Lucinda.
“Hi there,” I said. I knew I sounded weird and winded.
“Are you OK?” she asked.
“Just did my hospital tour.”
“Ah,” she said. “And you didn’t pass out?”
“Nope. Just almost.”
“Good for you, lady. That’s major growth.”
“It really is.”
Emerson opened the car door, and even though it was hot inside, it still felt good to be out of there.
“So what’s up?”
“I know you’re not doing the social media thing,” Lucinda said, “but all our friends are dying to know who the Instagram hottie is.”
“Em, did you Instagram the pic of you and me and Kyle this morning?”
“Yeah,” she said absentmindedly. I could tell she was checking her e-mail.
“Well, I owe you. Lucinda says people are talking about it, and surely it will get back to James.”
“Oh, I’ll make sure it gets back to James,” Lucinda said.
I smiled. There was a bit of commotion from Lucinda’s end, and she said, “Got to go!” before hanging up.
“What?” Mom said, as she opened the car door. “What did I miss?”
I handed her the phone with the Instagram post open.
She gasped. “No! Caroline, you can’t catch a break.”
“Can’t catch a break?” I said. “That’s the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time.”
I read the first few comments. “Wait,” I said. “Is Kyle an actor?”
“Well . . .” Emerson said. “He isn’t an actor per se, but he’s going to have a one-line part in my movie. When somebody asked what he did in a comment, I didn’t think ‘barista’ sounded quite as revenge-ish.”
I turned to her as Mom started toward home. “You’re the best sister in the whole world!”
I was so excited by this turn of events I decided I wouldn’t even throw my new shoes away. Nope. After my shower and dropping my white dress into some Clorox, I would have someone thoroughly Lysol them. And then I’d give them to Emerson as a thank-you.
As we pulled into the driveway, I said, “OK, Mom. More info about Jack.”
“Nah. That was more like a hospital bribe. Now the moment’s over.”
“Noooooo!” Emerson cried, as Mom grabbed her purse and shut the door.
“Well, damn,” I said.
“It’s OK,” Emerson said. “I don’t need another piece of information to be totally sure that she’s in love with him.”
“You think?” I said.
But she didn’t need to answer for me to know that it was probably true. First loves never completely go away, after all. He seemed like a great guy, and I wanted to share in my sister’s excitement. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something we didn’t know about Jack.
FIFTEEN
ulterior motive
ansley
Whether he was near the calming waters of Peachtree or in the hustle and bustle of Manhattan, whether it was the best day of his life or the worst, Carter was an eternal optimist. Which is probably why it took me so long to understand how it was possible that he could have been killed in our country’s worst tragedy. Those things happened to other people. Not me. And certainly not Carter. He was one of the good guys.
In fact, for weeks after the attacks, I kept expecting him to walk through the door. It would be a sort of joke. “Oh, honey. You poor thing. You forgot I was in Hong Kong? I couldn’t get home because the airports were shut down.”
Something like that. Only he didn’t come home. We stayed in Manhattan for ninety-nine days. It took ninety-nine days for the fires to go out, and it was then and only then that I felt I could leave. I knew I would never see my husband again. I knew he was gone. I hoped he hadn’t suffered, but if he had, I wanted to know that I had been there with him the entire time. I had never left his side. I had been his wife until I was sure it was the bitter end. There was nothing more for me to do.
Then I packed my girls up and got the hell out of there. I had to. It was the only way.