Reunion in October (The Calendar Girls Book 2) (16 page)

“God, yes! I’ve tooted so much in the last few hours, you’d think I swallowed Louis Armstrong whole.”

My chuckles escaped before I could stop them.

“You’re laughing,” she pointed out. “That must mean it’s not serious. Thank gawd.”

I hesitated. “I want to run a few tests, get some lab work and an x-ray or two before I know for sure. Be prepared to sit tight, okay?

She sighed. “Can’t you just prescribe an antacid and send me home?”

I shook my head. “I’m not sure it’s that easy. But don’t be afraid. We’ll know more in a little while, I promise.”

“Oh, I’m not frightened,” she told me. “I just don’t want have to listen to Vinnie say, ‘I told you so.’”

I wrote up orders for a series of blood tests, including liver function, lipase, and a CBC—complete blood count. “Vinnie’s your husband?”

“Mmm-hmm. Forty-six years now.”

“How wonderful,” I said.

The old lady tilted her head to peer at me with sharp eyes. “Are you married, Doctor?”

I kept my focus pinned to her medical chart, adding an abdominal x-ray to my orders. “No, I’m not.”

“I figured. You’re too smart. A woman doctor and all. Most men like their women dumb. Don’t play that game. Be picky. Hold out for someone who loves everything about you. Even the bad things.”

“I didn’t know being smart was a bad thing.”

“It isn’t,” she replied. “At least, it shouldn’t be. But I played dumb to catch Vinnie’s attention sixty years ago, and I’ve had to play dumb ever since. That’s why I hate when he says I told you so. Don’t make my mistake. I told all my daughters the same thing. In my day, if you weren’t married by the time you turned twenty-eight, you were an old maid. I was twenty-seven when I met Vinnie, and I panicked. I let him think I couldn’t make a decision without a man’s advice. Sure enough, we got married before my next birthday. The ruse won him over, but he still thinks I’d be lost without him when, really, the opposite is true. Vinnie can’t find two matching socks without me.”

As I anticipated, Mrs. Spinelli had suffered an acute gall bladder attack. By the time I got her tests completed and her diagnosis in order, I knew all about her husband, Vinnie; their three daughters; and her favorite baby of all, Thor, their Maltese. In return, she inquired about where I went to medical school, my favorite holiday, and my address for her Christmas card list. Just before she was wheeled upstairs to a semi-private room where a GI specialist would take over her care, she pointed a spindly finger at me. “I know who’d be perfect for you.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Spinelli, but I’m really not interested in dating anyone right now.”

“Nonsense. You’re young and pretty. You should have a nice beau to take care of you, someone who makes you smile.”

My mind instantly flashed on Josh, and I nodded. “Actually, I do have someone like that.”

“Oh, good for you, sweetheart.”

Chapter 12

Emily

Roy finally brought the kids to visit me on Thursday night. The minute they entered the room, Gabriella and Luke scrambled up onto the bed with me. Melissa slumped into the chair near the window, eyes glued to her cell phone. She was probably texting with Amanda. Corey hung back, near the sink, arms folded over his chest. Roy kissed my forehead, muttered something about giving me a little time with the kids, and slipped out faster than Jell-O through a colander.

With my youngest two snuggled, one under each arm, I patted the bed’s edge. “Corey, come here.”

He shook his head. “I’m okay.”

From the bed beside me, my new roommate, Margie Spinelli, sat up and offered, “He can take the chair from my side. I have no one coming to visit tonight.”

Margie had arrived late last night via the E.R. This morning, she’d had a full house of visitors, but now, hours later, she was alone. She, her husband, and all their friends were well in their seventies and afraid to drive after dark. During afternoon visiting hours, our room was crammed with the senior citizen crowd: a friendly, gregarious group who included lonely ol’ me in their conversations and jokes. After about three hours of socializing, they’d said their goodbyes and headed off to early bird dinners, followed by mah-jongg or arts and crafts class at their retirement community, leaving Margie alone again for the rest of the day and night.

“Oh, thank you,” I said to her now.

“So this is your brood, huh?”

I nodded. “Mmm-hmm. Corey, take the chair. Please?”

He sighed with the put-upon attitude only a true teenager could pull off. “Fine.”

While my son shuffled toward the door to fetch the chair, I made the introductions. “Obviously, that’s Corey, my second-oldest. Over here in the corner is Melissa.”

She popped up her head long enough to murmur, “Hi,” then dove back into her texting.

“And these two Munchkins are Gabriella and Luke.” I gently squeezed my babies. Luke, on my left, had already fallen asleep against me.

Margie smiled. “They’re beautiful, Em.”

A blanket of pride effused me. “Thanks.”

“Mommy?” Gabriella picked up her head to stare at me, fluttering her thick fringe of lashes. “When are you coming home?”

I played with a dark silken curl of her hair. “Soon, I hope.”

“Did the doctor fix your heart?” She placed her head against my chest, as if she could hear the problem through my ribcage.

“Almost. He wants to make sure it’s perfect before he sends me home.”

“Grandma says your heart’s not really broken, that you just wanted some attention.”

“Nice,” Margie remarked, her lips twisted in obvious distaste.

Inside, I burned, but I kept a cool exterior for my children’s sake. “I’m sure Grandma didn’t mean that.”

“Then, how did you break your heart?”

I bit back my first retort,
Ask your father,
and went with something more benign. “Well, Grandma’s right that my heart’s not really broken. It was working too hard and had to struggle to keep up with me. Dr. Stewart says part of my problem is that weak hearts run in my family. Remember Grandpa? Not Daddy’s daddy, my daddy. He died from a heart attack.”

Gabriella’s eyes widened, and tears shimmered. “You’re not gonna
die
, are you, Mommy?”

I pulled her closer. My poor kids. First, Freckles. Now, they worried about me. “No, baby. I’m fine. Really. I was very lucky because my heart gave me a warning. You know how I put you in timeout when you misbehave? That’s what my heart did. It misbehaved, so the doctor is putting me in timeout until it promises to be good. Okay?”

After nodding, my daughter clutched the thin I.V. taped to my arm. “What’s this?”

“Don’t touch, honey.” I gently pried her fingers away. “It’s a tube that puts medicine into my heart.”

“Does it hurt?”

“No.” I didn’t want to talk about me or my heart. Not when I only had a half hour to spend with my family. Besides, Dr. Stewart had put the fear of death in me. For now, I couldn’t handle any undue stress. I had to rest and keep my blood pressure level. “Tell me about what you’ve been doing, Gabi. Are you being a good girl for Grandma?”

“Uh-huh. Luke’s been crying a lot though.”

I wasn’t surprised. At his age, he couldn’t possibly understand why his mommy wasn’t around all of a sudden. Luke was a creature of habit, and to suddenly find his major lifeline gone would confuse him.

“Grandma makes him stay in his crib ‘til he cries himself out and falls asleep.” Gabriella yawned wide enough for me to examine her tonsils. “He wakes me up at night.”

A mother’s indignation coursed through me. Where was Roy when my son was screaming himself to sleep? When would he ever learn to stand up to his parents for the sake of his family?

No stress, I reminded myself. Stay calm. I quickly changed the topic. Again. “How’s school?”

“Okay,” she murmured, then looked up at me, concern pinching her brow. “Do you think you’ll be home to help me with my hundred-day project? Mrs. Palmer says we have to hand them in by November twenty-first.”

Right. The hundred-day project. I remembered helping both Corey and Melissa with theirs. Every December, all the elementary school students celebrated the hundredth day of school with handmade craft projects that showcased the number, one hundred. Over the years, I’d drawn a Dalmatian with one hundred spots on poster board, filled a glass cookie jar with one hundred jellybeans, sewed one hundred buttons in the shape of the number on a large square of felt, built a miniature house out of one hundred toothpicks, and created a half dozen other projects that were buried in my memory. This would be Gabriella’s first time participating in the celebration that included all the students from kindergarten through fifth grade.

“Of course, I’ll be home in plenty of time. What did you have in mind?”

“Something with kittens,” she said. “Or Barbies.”

Fabulous. A hundred cats or a hundred fashion dolls. Like that wouldn’t be too challenging. No stress, I reminded myself. Besides, since this was her first year, Gabriella didn’t know what to expect. I offered her a confident smile. “Let’s see what we can come up with.” Maybe I could pack a hundred shoes into Barbie’s closet.

I turned to my older two children. “How about you guys? How’s school going for you?”

“Fine,” Corey replied. He still stood near the sink, the empty chair pushed against the open curtain that separated my half of the room from Margie’s. I could lead a stubborn mule to a chair, but I couldn’t make him sit.

“Mellie?” I prompted.

“Huh?” She glanced up from her phone. “Oh. Yeah. Good.”

I probably should have told her to put the phone away and engage her family in conversation, but the last thing any of us needed was a full-out teenage angst-fest. Besides, I knew my daughter, and I remember how turbulent I felt at sixteen. I understood her nonchalance was her armor, a shield that kept the outside world from seeing how confused, how scared, she really was. If I thought she’d allow it, I would have asked her to switch places with Gabriella for a little while, just so I could hold her and tell her everything would be all right. For now, those days were behind us both. I kept hoping, one day, Melissa would wake up and realize I was on her side, that I’d always been on her side.

Time, I reminded myself. She needed time and space to grow into womanhood. In a few years, she’d come back—but only if I didn’t barrel over her now. The pettier the power struggle, the farther she’d pull away from me. Taking a page from my mother’s relationship with me, I gave Melissa plenty of freedom to discover herself, but left the door open in case she needed me. It didn’t mean her aloofness didn’t hurt, but mothers throughout the ages had gone through this phase of childrearing and survived. We would, too.

“Hey, wanna hear the good news?” Corey blurted.

“Absolutely.” Good news was always welcome, but right now it was a godsend. “What’s the good news?”

“Grandpa gave me the money for the freshman camping trip. I missed the deadline, but Mr. Rossi made an exception for me so I get to go!”

Terrific. Leave it to Grandpa to open up his wallet without consulting us first. I forced enthusiasm. “That’s great, Corey.”

Roy and I had weighed the options carefully when we first received notice from the school about the weekend camping trip, meant to give incoming freshmen a chance to meet and create friendships. Through group tasks and team outings, the students would learn how to cooperate with each other, becoming a unified class. Aside from the exorbitant fee for the trip itself, Corey would need camping gear, special clothes, and extra money for “expenditures.” As miserable as I felt to say no, I knew our budget couldn’t stretch that far. Now, when our defenses were down, my in-laws swooped in and gave the kid half of what he needed to go. Roy and I would have no choice but to scrape up the rest, or risk not only our son’s wrath, but the school’s.

“God, I wish you’d had this heart attack two years ago,” Melissa remarked. “Then I could’ve had Grandpa pay for
me
to go on that trip.”

I’d never struck any of my children. Roy and I had agreed corporal punishment didn’t teach right from wrong—only weakness vs. power. Right then, though, if my oldest had been in arm’s reach, I would have slapped her. “Congratulations,” I said instead and held out my hand. “You’ve just lost your cell phone privileges for a week.”

She looked up at me, eyes wide with panic. “Why?” Her voice grew strident. “What’s the big deal? I was just kidding.”

“The big deal is your mother nearly died, and you act like some spoiled diva,” Roy said as he strode into the room, his face florid. “Now, hand over your phone. Then you and Corey take the little ones down to the lobby and wait for me. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

“This is so not fair!” Shooting to her feet, she slapped the phone into my palm. “Corey gets everything.”

“That’s enough, Melissa” Roy said from the doorway. “You’ve not only lost your cell phone privileges, you’re grounded for the weekend.” I’d never heard such a sharp tone from him—not directed at his princess.

“But, Daddy!”

“No buts. Get moving. Now. Unless you want to be grounded for a week?”

Corey snickered, and Roy whirled to him. “You want to be next?”

He ducked his head. “No.”

Meanwhile, Melissa reached for Gabriella, huddled up against me, clinging like ivy to a stone wall. “Come on, Gabi. Let’s go.”

“No!” Gabriella plunged her fingers into my arm. “I wanna stay with Mommy!”

“Too bad.” Melissa yanked hard on her sister’s waist.

“Mellie,” I chastised, “stop.”

She jerked back, hands on her hips. “I’m only doing what Daddy said.”

“There’s a better way than pulling her like taffy,” I said and ran a hand over my younger daughter’s hair. “Gabriella, go with Mellie. I’ll be home soon. I promise.”

“I love you, Mommy.” She nestled her head under my arm.

“I love you too, sunshine. Go on now.”

“O-kay.” Sighing, she scrambled off the mattress and grasped her sister’s hand.

On the other side of my bed, Corey scooped up Luke, who gave a soft whine, but slept on. “Bye, Mom,” he said as he cradled his baby brother against his shoulder. “Feel better.”