Hidden Under Her Heart Page 26

  “Help!” A man’s deep voice yelled.

  No way. Lucas kicked clear of him. That was Barry and he was treading water, not in immediate danger.

  “Where’s Maryanne?”

  “She sank. But I wouldn’t save her if I were you.” The man flashed a wide grin.

  Lucas ignored him and dived down. The water was murky. He had no chance. He surfaced and gasped for air. “What did you do to her?”

  “Let her die. She’s a slut. She had an abortion.”

  “Shut up!” Lucas wanted to hurt the guy, but Maryanne was in danger. He spotted a pink windbreaker in back of Barry. Lucas swam toward it and dived. He’d bring her back if it killed him. What the hell was Barry babbling about? Even if Maryanne had aborted the baby, he’d still save her. Besides Barry was probably lying to keep him from helping.

  He held his breath and frog kicked downward. Maryanne hung suspended beneath rising bubbles. His lungs bursting, he grabbed her hair and tugged her to the surface. She was unconscious while he supported her face above the water.

  Finally, a helicopter circled and a police boat approached. Thank God! Lucas shouted until his throat was raw. Hands lifted him and Maryanne onto the boat. She was immediately placed on a stretcher and surrounded by a team of medics.

  Barry was also brought on board. He pointed at Lucas and shouted at the officers.

  Lucas hovered at the edge of the team. “How is she?” he babbled over and over, shivering under the heat blanket.

  An officer put her hand on his shoulder. “She’s breathing but is in labor. We’re airlifting her to the hospital. How many weeks pregnant is she?”

  “I don’t know! Don’t let the baby die. Whatever you do. She wants the baby.”

  “Okay, we’ll take her to Labor and Delivery instead of the ER.”

  A medic tapped Lucas. “You the baby’s father?”

  “Yes, I’m her husband.” The words slipped out. A lie. But he wanted to stay at her side.

  “We’ll need you to sign permission forms. Your wife is still unconscious. They’ll lower the stretcher first, we’ll secure her, and then you climb up the ladder.”

  “She’ll be okay, won’t she? And the baby?” Lucas’ teeth chattered.

  “We’ll do what we can,” the medic replied.

  The helicopter approached. The noise and blowing of the rotor blades made it impossible to hear the instructions. The sea was rough, and the boat rocked. It took a few tries to secure the stretcher. He couldn’t see her clearly, just a figure covered, wrapped and strapped. A few minutes later, the ladder was lowered, and Lucas climbed up.

  Maryanne lay so still, her face pale and her hair streaked across her cheeks. Lucas strapped himself in and held her hand gently, careful not to dislodge the tubes. Oh, dear God. I love her so much. Don’t let anything happen to her or the baby. The sinking feeling in his gut pressed him into the seat as the helicopter rolled and yawed. How could this be happening? She looked so vulnerable and small. Every so often her body tightened, and a moan slipped from her purple tinted lips.

  Pandemonium met them at their arrival to the hospital. The helicopter had barely touched down when stretchers were rolled toward them. A nurse offered a wheelchair to Lucas, but he waved her off. He struggled to keep up with the staff as they rushed Maryanne to Labor and Delivery.

  A nurse handed Lucas paperwork. “Fill out what you can.”

  “She’s an employee at K-Care. She lost her purse in the water.”

  “Name?”

  “Maryanne Torres. She’s an allergy nurse. I’m sure you can bring up her records.”

  “Okay, got it.”

  “How’s she doing?” Lucas shivered in his soaked clothing.

  The nurse looked him up and down. “Let me get you some scrubs. I suppose you have no ID either?”

  “Nope, but thanks for the scrubs.”

  A doctor approached. “Your wife is stable and conscious. She’s still having contractions, but the baby’s heartbeat is nice and strong.”

  “Thank God.” Lucas took the offered scrubs. “Can I see her?”

  “Twenty minutes. They’re doing an ultrasound.”

  Lucas thanked the doctor and rushed to the bathroom. He put his wet clothes into a plastic bag and changed into the scrubs. His sneakers squished on the floor, so he put on the booties provided, and washed his hands, arms and face. His body warmed in the dry clothes, and seething anger boiled in his chest. He clenched his fists. No more Mr. Nice Guy. The next time he saw Barry O’Brien, he’d strangle him.

  He punched the bathroom’s concrete wall and rushed into the hallway toward Maryanne’s room.

  Taking deep breaths, he entered the door and halted. A mass of doctors and nurses milled inside the room.

  “Epinephrine,” shouted a doctor hovering in the corner away from Maryanne. “What’s the pulse?”

  Lucas walked in stiffly, his gaze turning from the corner to Maryanne. A nurse sat in front of Maryanne’s opened legs, examining her. The sheets were bloody, and Maryanne was crying. She turned stricken eyes on him.

  His head swirled, and an ache stuck to the side of his ribs. He bent over her. “Are you okay? The baby?”

  The woman attending to Maryanne gave him a pasted smile. “Congratulations, you have a baby girl.”

  “But… but what happened? Is she going to be okay?”

  “They’re still working on her. They’re bagging her right now.”

  “Bagging?” He hugged Maryanne, who rested her face on his shoulder.

  “Giving her oxygen until the tube can be inserted,” the nurse explained. “She’s going to need a ventilator.”

  A team wheeled in a plastic incubator. Maryanne clutched at Lucas. “I’m so scared. She’s so tiny. She wasn’t breathing, and they said her heart stopped.”

  Pulsing heat expanded and contracted in Lucas’ chest. How could this have happened? He hugged Maryanne tightly and kissed her.

  A doctor tore off his mask and came to their side. “You have a minute?”

  Maryanne nodded mutely and Lucas croaked, “Yes. Will she be okay?”

  The doctor held out his hand. “I’m Dr. Logan, Neonatal Pediatrics. Congratulations on your new daughter.”

  “Uhm… thanks,” Lucas replied.

  Dr. Logan gestured toward the team hovering around the baby. “She’s extremely premature. What I need to know from you two is how aggressive you want us to be.”

  “What do you mean?” Lucas asked.

  Maryanne waved toward the corner. “Do everything you can for her.”

  The doctor ran his fingers through his greying hair and shrugged. “I’ll be honest. She’s right at the lower range of viability. She went into cardiac arrest when she was born, her lungs are immature and it’s going to be an uphill fight. She’s at risk for respiratory distress and bleeding in her brain. I suspect a heart condition, but of course an echocardiogram will show us what’s going on.”

  “What are you trying to say?” Maryanne’s voice was weak and jittery.

  “The level of life-support you want us to give her. If you agree to it, we can put in a do not resuscitate order and let her go in peace. We’ll let you hold her.”

  “No!” Maryanne bolted upright. “You can’t let her die.”

  The doctor looked back at the team. “Prepare her for transport to the NICU.”

  “Please let me see her before she goes.” Maryanne shook under Lucas’ grasp, sobbing. “I want her so badly.”

  A nurse wheeled the incubator toward them. “She’s very small, so be prepared.”

  Lucas caught his breath. The baby could easily fit into his hand. Her head was about the size of a peach. She was translucent pink, with wisps of light brown hair. A tube was taped on the side of her face, leading into her mouth, and an attendant squeezed a bag to help her breathe.

  Maryanne whimpered, “My baby girl.”

  “Say hello to your parents,” the nurse said to the baby. “Isn’t she a sweetie?”


  The baby’s eyes were open, looking at them. Maryanne rubbed the top of the incubator. “Oh, baby. Mommy loves you. Be strong, baby.”

  Billows of warmth filled Lucas’ heart. The baby was so precious. He’d do anything to protect her, give everything for her to have a happy life. He hugged Maryanne’s shoulders and blinked back tears.

  “We have to take her to the NICU to run tests,” the doctor said. “I’ve ordered surfactant for her lungs. Why don’t you two get some rest, and we’ll have an update for you later this evening.”

  They wheeled the incubator from the room. Maryanne tried to rise out of the bed, but Lucas held her down. “She’ll be fine. She’s a fighter like her mom.”

  Maryanne collapsed back onto the bed and covered her face. “I don’t want her to die.”

  Chapter 33

  The doctor discharged Maryanne, and a nurse handed her a packet full of pads and postpartum care instructions. “No sexual relations for six weeks. You’ll be bleeding for a while, and we don’t want you to get an infection.”

  Not like she had anyone to have relations with. Maryanne signed the discharge form and care instructions. Vera handed her a change of clothes, and she pulled them on numbly. Her body felt empty, deflated, the skin of her belly sagging like a limp birthday balloon. The nurse helped her into a wheelchair and walked with Vera to her car.

  Vera looked distracted as she fiddled with the ignition. Maryanne buckled her seatbelt and turned to her. “Is anything wrong?”

  Vera pressed her lips and inhaled through her nose. “Zach lost his foot.”

  “What?”

  “From what they can figure out, his jet ski slammed into the yacht, and his leg was smashed below the knee. They had to amputate.”

  A spike of pain jolted Maryanne’s heart. “Oh my God! That’s horrible. Have you seen him?”

  Could this day get any worse? She slumped against the seatback and covered her eyes. Everything was her fault. She should never have pursued the rape charges. Everyone believed her a slut, but now others were paying the price, Zach and her baby girl. Even Lucas could have been hurt pulling her out of the water.

  “Zach’s in a coma. He doesn’t know yet. Lucas is sitting with him. He wants to be there when Zach wakes up.” Vera sniffed and wiped her eyes. “His whole life was triathlon. He had such big plans.”

  The tears swimming in Maryanne’s eyes overflowed. She hugged Vera. “I’m so sorry for him. Do you care a lot about him?”

  Vera started the car. “It doesn’t matter whether I care or not. His life is ruined. Anyway, girlfriend, you need to go home and rest.”

  “No, let’s go back to the hospital. I want to see my baby girl and be there for Lucas when Zach wakes up.”

  “You almost drowned, you need rest.” Vera backed out of the space. “The Tanakas went to see the baby. I just came from their place to get your clothes.”

  Maryanne tapped the dashboard. “Turn around. I can’t let them claim my baby. What if they say not to resuscitate her?”

  “They wouldn’t do that.” Vera looked horrified. “Are you having second thoughts about the adoption?”

  Maryanne heaved a sigh and rubbed her eyes, her fingers twitching. “When I saw her lying there, so tiny and weak, it was as if a flower bloomed in my heart in slow motion and I wanted to hold her, to comfort her. She looked into my eyes, like she knew me already. She didn’t even blink. And when they wheeled her away, my heart ripped and my arms ached. I think I love her more than I’ve ever loved anyone. She can’t die, Vera. They can’t let her die.”

  “She won’t die. You’ll see. She’ll pull out of it. What are you going to name her?”

  Did she even have the right to name her? To renege from the deal she made with the Tanakas? The image of the frail, delicate baby, skin like rose petals, and a nose smaller than her fingernail wrenched her heart. I must believe you’ll live, baby. You have to live. Have faith; that’s what Mrs. Ortega said whenever she prayed with her.

  Maryanne squared her shoulders. She would not give up on her baby girl. “I’ll call her Emma Faith.”

  ~~~

  Cheery decorations of reindeer, snowmen and elves graced the check-in area of Bay Area Children’s Hospital. Maryanne showed her bracelet and ID card to the guard. He called the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU), and a few minutes later, a matronly looking woman in a flowing dress came to the entrance.

  “I’m Gayle, social services, so pleased to meet you.” She gave Maryanne a warm hug. “I’m sure you’re anxious to see your daughter. Her father’s waiting in my office.”

  “Lucas?” An edge of annoyance hissed through her gut. Why was he going around telling the staff he was the father? Had he forgotten the rape accusations? She followed Gayle down a hall full of photos. She’d deal with Lucas later. Her heartbeat tapped along with her heels on the linoleum floor.

  “How my baby’s doing?” Maryanne caught up to Gayle at the office door.

  “I’ll get to that when the doctor arrives. But first, I need to let you and Lucas know what to expect.” She stepped into her office and gestured to a chair in front of her desk.

  Lucas half-stood and put his arm around Maryanne as she sat. “Everything’s going to be okay. Did you get any rest?”

  Maryanne shook her hair out of her eyes. “How can I rest? Is it bad news? Is that why we’re here instead of in the NICU?”

  Gayle handed Maryanne a folder. “I need both of you to fill out some information. Family history, health related issues. It’s very important to get a medical history for your daughter so we know what to anticipate. Allergies? History of heart problems.”

  “Do we have to do this now?” Maryanne said. “Can I please see my baby?”

  The social worker took a deep breath. “I went over this with the adoptive parents already. It’s best to be emotionally prepared before you enter the ward.”

  “Adoptive parents?” Maryanne stood. “They’ve been in with her already?” Tears edged under her eyelids. “What is it you’re not telling me?”

  Lucas tugged her closer to his chest. “She’s trying to prepare you. I spoke to the Tanakas. The baby’s a fighter, but she has many issues.”

  “I want to help her.” Maryanne forced a deep breath, held it and let it out slowly. “I’m trying to be calm.”

  “I know you are.” He rubbed circles between her shoulder blades. “They can only let two people in at a time, and we can’t disturb the nurses.”

  There was a knock on the door and Gayle answered it. “Oh, Dr. Logan, come in. Yes, I’ve prepared them already.”

  Maryanne swallowed and straightened her back. She’d be brave, not fall apart, or they’d deem her incapable of seeing her daughter. Her daughter, no one else’s.

  “Hello, Dr. Logan,” she said, holding out her hand.

  He shook it. “Nice to meet you. I suppose you don’t want to waste time with pleasantries, so let’s get to the prognosis. The baby, does she have a name? I hate to refer to her as Baby T all the time.”

  Baby T, like in Tanaka? Her teeth ground as she swallowed. She had to get control of herself. “Her name is Emma, Emma Faith.”

  “What a beautiful name,” Gayle said. “Let me make a sign for her. We like to personalize her incubator, make each one a little different.”

  “Great,” the doctor said, “Baby T, er Emma is a fighter. She’s average size for her gestational age, 834 grams or a little more than one and three-quarter pounds. That’s actually not bad. The smallest surviving preemie was only ten ounces. The fact that she’s a girl significantly increases her chances.”

  Lucas patted her hand. “See? She’ll pull through. I knew women were the stronger sex.”

  The doctor pulled out a set of x-rays. “The baby is doing about as we expected. She’s on a ventilator, a high frequency ventilator. She collapsed a lung, and she has a heart condition.”

  Maryanne gasped and bit her knuckles.

  Lucas tightened his hold on her and rocked
her gently. “What does that mean?”

  “The aorta and pulmonary artery are connected,” the doctor replied. “It’s normal in fetal circulation when the baby isn’t meant to breathe on her own. But since Emma was born early, this condition causes a strain on her heart and difficulty breathing. Add that to her respiratory distress, and it becomes a big worry.”

  “Oh, God.” Maryanne’s head felt light, and cold sweat broke over her forehead. “What are her chances?”

  Dr. Logan wrung his hands. “It’s too early to call it. Tonight is critical. The good news is that she’s relatively healthy going into this. No chromosomal issues or birth defects.”

  Maryanne broke from Lucas’ embrace and stared at the doctor. “I’m a nurse. Please, give it to me straight.”

  “A coin toss, fifty-fifty.”

  ~~~

  The entrance to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit was through a set of double doors monitored by a guard. Gayle waved her badge in front of the scanner, and the locks clicked open. The guard checked the picture identification cards hanging around their necks. Maryanne wiped her sweaty palms on her jacket. She felt worse than on her first date. Everything that meant anything hinged on that tiny baby who had once been nestled safely under her heart.

  She hugged her arms and suppressed a shiver, following Gayle and Lucas through the doorway and down a short hall. Gayle pointed to a break room with a sink, refrigerator and microwave. “This is the common area where you can gather during nurse shift changes. You must wash your hands before going back into the ward.”

  “Do we need gowns and masks?” Maryanne asked.

  “No, we believe babies should be acclimatized to the environment. Of course we are sanitary, but gowns and masks do not shield them from germs.”

  Maryanne scrubbed her hands and arms and rubbed them with a paper towel. Butterflies thumped in her belly, and she blew several breaths to calm herself. Lucas took her hand and squeezed it. Her nerves frizzled, and she gritted her teeth. As comforting as he was, she resented his presence. Emma Faith was not his daughter. The way he had asked questions of the doctor and Gayle triggered a host of mixed feelings. How could he be so upbeat when her daughter had a fifty percent chance of death?