Chapter Nineteen

Malcolm urged the jeep into the curve as fast as he could, feeling it plow through the slushy late-March snow. His mind was alive, and he reveled in the freedom he enjoyed. The best two years of his life, his mission, had finally been supplanted by the growing joy in his heart. Looking back, he could see that the night Brionney’s twins were born had been the beginning; from there he had set about changing his life with a vengeance. Since he’d quit smoking, five months ago after Jesse’s blessing, he hadn’t missed a day of church or felt a craving that he couldn’t conquer with a prayer.

When had he lost sight of the importance of the gospel? He didn’t know or pretend to understand. Now the gospel of Jesus Christ filled the emptiness he had felt in his heart for so many years.

He glanced at his watch. Nearly thirty minutes since Karissa had called from the hospital. He wouldn’t miss the birth of his first child. He just wouldn’t! He wanted to be with Karissa, to support her. Maybe he would even give her a blessing. He hadn’t used his priesthood yet since his return to church, and he was only beginning to feel worthy of doing so. Now he would be able to name and bless his own child! Tears came to his eyes, and he blinked them back to focus on the road.

Returning to church had been much easier than he had imagined. People had welcomed him, and he found joy in seeing them and sharing in their lives. Some of the single sisters had thought him a bachelor, and he had many interesting conversations with them until they realized that he was completely and totally in love with his pregnant wife.

Malcolm’s smiled died on his face. Karissa hadn’t returned to church with him, despite his gentle urgings. But then, she’d been sick with her pregnancy. “I can’t stay for three hours,” she had said. Or “driving in the car makes me sick.” This last, at least, was true. If Karissa didn’t drive herself, she would throw up repeatedly. Even when she did drive, she would feel faint.

He had schooled himself to be patient, sure that things would get better after the baby came. Karissa still worked full time, which drained all her energy, but maybe that would change, too. She had mentioned that Damon had found a temporary replacement for six months until she decided what she wanted to do.

To Malcolm, there was no decision to be made. He had sold his documentary, and his commercials had made such an impact on the market that he had the funds to think about turning completely to movie-making, his childhood dream. One of his clients had given him a movie script by a young author who Malcolm was sure would make the grade, and it was set on a remote island that sounded very much like Kodiak. Malcolm already had backers for the film. It would be a success, and Karissa would never need to work again.

Malcolm didn’t say any of this to Karissa, but he thought about it every day. He planned how the rooms in their house would be filled with children, and Karissa would be as happy as she had been while caring for Jesse’s girls.

The hospital parking lot was just ahead, and he turned in and came to a quick, slushy stop at the parking space nearest the building. Not bothering to lock the Jeep, he plunged through the melting snow and into the hospital. “Where’s Karissa?” he asked the nurse on the maternity floor.

“What? No ‘good afternoon?’ ” She winked. “Come on, Mr. Mathees, I’ll take you there.”

Karissa was lying on a bed, looking calm. She held out her hands for him. “Malcolm.”

He hugged her and kissed her forehead. “I made it.”

“Not by much,” she said. “They say it’s going quickly for a first baby. They’re giving me an epidural now.”

Compared to Brionney’s delivery that stormy night, Karissa’s seemed easy. She had sweat on her forehead and occasionally grimaced during the contractions, but the pain was kept at bay by the epidural. The baby came quickly and with no complications.

“It’s a girl!” Malcolm said excitedly, glad they had waited to find out. “She’s beautiful!”

He watched Dr. Fairfax clean and suction the infant and wrap her in a soft blanket. “A textbook delivery,” he said, handing her the baby. “Congratulations.”

Karissa’s face shone with perspiration, but her hair and makeup seemed untouched. She cradled the baby with wonder in her eyes, the same wonder Malcolm felt on his own face. He put his arm around her and snuggled up close, caressing the baby with his hand. Karissa tore her gaze away from their daughter to glance at him. “She’s all ours,” she whispered.

“You did a great job.”

She smiled. “It was hard, but easier than I expected,” she admitted. “Though for a while before the epidural, I thought I was going to scream. If it’s this easy, maybe we can have more.” It was the first time Karissa had mentioned the possibility of other children, as if wanting more would jinx the baby they had been given.

“You just say when,” Malcolm said.

She sighed in contentment. “I’m so happy.”

Malcolm was happy, too. Maybe now Karissa would see how good the Lord had been to them and search for the deeper meaning in their existence. He prayed for this daily.

“Let’s name her Stephanie.” Karissa shifted the baby on her chest and turned her head to see his face.

“Why Stephanie?” he asked. They had discussed names, but this one had never come up. “I don’t know anyone by that name.”

“Exactly. It’s just her. She seems like a Stephanie.” There was a thinly veiled intensity in her voice.

He slid a hand down her long hair. “Karissa, is something wrong? You can tell me.”

“Nothing. I just like that name. What do you think?”

He looked down at the little baby with the mass of black hair and wide, dark eyes, slightly swollen and squeezed shut now against the light. “It fits her,” he said, smiling. “Besides, after going through that, you can name her anything you like.”

Karissa laughed the deep, throaty laugh Malcolm loved and laid her head back on his chest. Malcolm knew life couldn’t be any better than it was at this moment.

It wasn’t until weeks later that Malcolm’s world fell apart.

* * * * *

The first time Stephanie threw up, Karissa didn’t think much of it. She had seen Brionney’s babies do it many times and had learned that babies spit up—sometimes a lot. She simply took the week-old Stephanie from her breast and wiped her mouth with the cloth diaper she kept handy, then laid the baby on the sofa next to her. She adjusted her bra and pulled down her shirt, wincing slightly at the soreness she still felt at nursing time. “That’s all for you, my dear. It looks like you’ve had too much already.”

She picked up the manuscript she had found on the coffee table. Its storyline took place on a remote island very much like Kodiak. She wondered where Malcolm had found it and why he had kept it. The words kept drawing her back to the page and she read on, fascinated. Every so often little Stephanie would make a small noise, and Karissa would hurriedly check to make sure her daughter was all right.

When Malcolm came into the television room, she tore her gaze away from the manuscript and looked up, noticing that he still had the glazed look he had worn since Stephanie’s birth. She chuckled. “Run into any more walls, Malcolm?”

He picked up Stephanie and sat beside her, placing the baby’s head on his knees with her little feet pointing to his stomach. Next to his left eye, beginning at the end of his eyebrow, an inch-long cut scarred his face. He fingered it gently. “Not since this.”

“It’s not every day a man becomes a father for the first time.”

Malcolm snorted. “That’s what the doctor said when he stitched me up. But it was embarrassing, I tell you. Embarrassing.” He poked gently at Stephanie’s stomach as she watched him complacently with her overlarge eyes.

“Did you remember to take Delinda’s dishes back?” Karissa asked. Delinda and some of the other ward members had brought dinners for several days after Steph’s birth, and she’d been asking him to return their pans and plastic containers.

“I finally remembered.” His eyes glanced at the manuscript, then stared as he recognized it.

“It’s really good,” Karissa said. “It’d make a wonderful movie. With a few changes, it could have happened on Kodiak.”

“I want to make it into a movie,” he confessed. The new scar near his eye made it droop slightly, and Karissa thought it added character and a sense of mystery. “Do you think I could do it?”

Was he asking for her permission? “I think it’s a wonderful idea. You’d do a great job, and I’d even like to help, if you want.”

“I’d love it!” Malcolm jumped up and did a little dance with the baby, favoring his right shoulder as he had since the bear attack the previous year. “It’s going to be great!” Stephanie chose that moment to lose the rest of her dinner. Karissa tossed him a new cloth, since the one she had used a few minutes before was wet.

“Yuck,” Malcolm said, mopping his shirt. “Why did you do that to your old dad?”

“I think we’ll both have to get used to it,” Karissa sighed.

Malcolm eyes shone, and Karissa knew he didn’t mind. He loved Stephanie no matter what she did. Karissa felt happier than she had felt in a long time.

Only Malcolm’s renewed interest in the Church threatened Karissa. Over the past months, as his devotion to the Church deepened, Karissa’s resistance to it had increased. She felt as if he were being ripped away from her and taken to a place where she could not follow. But today they were joined by their love for their daughter and their excitement over the film Malcolm would make. He put his arm around her, and she leaned her head against his shoulder, feeling closer to him than she had ever felt.

Then Malcolm glanced at his watch. “Oops, I’ve got to get going. I have home teaching in a few minutes.” He handed the baby back to his wife, kissed her, and rose from the couch, leaving Karissa to stare after him.

* * * * *

When Stephanie was ten days old, Karissa took her in for a checkup with Dr. Fairfax. His eyebrows drew together anxiously. “She seems healthy,” he said. “But she hasn’t gained any weight. In fact, she’s lost six ounces since birth.”

“Don’t all babies lose some weight?” Karissa asked.

“That’s true, but she should be gaining again by now.”

“Well, she’s been throwing up some, but I didn’t imagine it was too much.”

Dr. Fairfax met Karissa’s steady gaze. “Now, you know I’m a big advocate for breast feeding, but some babies take a little longer than others to catch on. I want you to supplement two bottles a day until she starts gaining weight. And I want to see her again in two days. It’s a Saturday, but I’ll be here seeing some other patients. We don’t want to take any chances.”

“Thank you,” Karissa mumbled.

During the next two days, Stephanie began to throw up a short time after each feeding. It was so much that Karissa would have to change the baby’s clothes, and often her own as well. Malcolm was working, but every few hours he called to see how Stephanie was doing.

“She still hasn’t gained any weight,” Dr. Fairfax said at the next visit. Stephanie was twelve days old and weighed six and a half pounds, still six ounces less than she had at birth. “I think we’d better go strictly to formula,” he said. “Maybe she’s allergic to something in your milk. I’ll want to see you in another two days.”

Karissa felt as if her heart would break.

Dr. Fairfax touched her arm. “She still seems healthy. We’ll get through this.” His words hadn’t calmed Karissa’s heart, but his manner had. Whatever was wrong with her daughter, they would find and fix it.

Stephanie continued to throw up the formula a half hour to two hours after eating. Karissa experimented with every formula on the market, and even with fresh milk from Maggie’s goat, but Stephanie’s stomach rejected everything. Afterwards she would begin crying, a thin, wailing sound that ate at Karissa’s heart.

“I’m so sorry, Steph,” Karissa whispered.

The night before they were to return to the doctor, Malcolm rubbed Karissa’s back as they sat together on their bed, a thick towel between them for the inevitable loss of milk from their daughter’s stomach.

Karissa felt the tears slide down her face. “I feel so bad for her, not having anything in her tummy. She doesn’t know that life isn’t supposed to be like this. It’s supposed to be better.”

“Let’s pray,” Malcolm suggested.

They prayed together, more fervently than they ever had before. Surely God would heal their baby.

At fourteen days, Stephanie had lost two more ounces. Since she didn’t keep down the formula any better, Karissa began to nurse her again, feeling some relief that her milk had not been causing the problem. The lactation consultant at the hospital began working with Karissa to single out a possible allergy Stephanie might have to something in both Karissa’s milk and the formulas. They began by cutting out all dairy products in Karissa’s diet.

“I’ll be honest with you, Karissa,” Dr. Fairfax said. “I don’t know what’s causing this, but if she loses any more weight I’m going to have to admit her to the hospital. For now, try to give her small amounts of milk many times during the day. Perhaps that will help. The important thing is to make sure she doesn’t become dehydrated.”

Karissa drove slowly away from the doctor’s office. It was mid-April now, and the snow was nearly melted by the continuous rains. Karissa remembered how at this time last year she and Malcolm had gone to see the fertility doctor, and how envious she’d been of Brionney’s daughters. It seemed like a long time ago.

Tears flooded her eyes, dropping from her face and soaking into her jeans. She pulled off the road a few minutes from Dell Flats and put her head in her hands. “Oh, Stephanie,” she murmured.

When she was sixteen and had thought that Tyler might marry her and take her away from her life, Karissa had picked out a name for their baby. Stephanie had been her choice. She’d always wanted a little girl to dress up and to put bows in her hair.

Heat rushed to Karissa’s face. What had she been thinking? That first Stephanie was gone, and naming this precious new soul after that old dream couldn’t bring her back. What’s more, Karissa was losing this Stephanie, too.

The baby woke up now that the movement of the car had stopped, and she began crying in a voice that seemed to accuse Karissa. “Dear God,” Karissa prayed aloud, “it’s not her fault. Please help her!”

Stephanie cried most of the last twenty minutes to the house, stopping when Karissa took her out of the car seat. She rooted around, trying to nurse on Karissa’s sweater.

“Just a minute, Steph.” Karissa fed her daughter, counting the swallows the way the doctor had told her. Ten swallows was approximately an ounce of milk—the small amount she was supposed to give Stephanie at each feeding. But when the ten swallows were up, Stephanie still nursed strongly, fussing when removed, and Karissa didn’t have the heart to stop her. Afterward, the baby was happy and lay contentedly in her mother’s arms while Karissa prayed.

“Karissa?” Malcolm came in from the garage and found them in the television room. His face was red from the cold, but his grin radiated warmth. “Well?” he asked, reaching for the baby.

Karissa pushed his hands away. “I just fed her. Don’t jiggle her.”

The throwing up began suddenly, as it always did, with Stephanie crying between each gush. Karissa held her while Malcolm mopped up the carpet. He slumped down on the sofa, circling his arms around his family.

“I don’t know what to do,” Karissa murmured. “It’s all my fault.”

“Don’t say that,” Malcolm ordered gruffly. “It just happened, that’s all. Years from now, we’ll look back on this with a different view.”

Karissa knew that Malcolm didn’t understand her culpability the way she did, and she was too afraid to tell him the truth. She held her secret inside, feeling alone despite her husband’s presence. Part of her seemed to die each time Stephanie threw up.

That evening, Malcolm’s mother called and suggested several native herbs that might help. Since Dr. Fairfax didn’t know what caused the problem, Karissa was willing to try anything.

“Has Stephanie received a blessing?” Faith asked.

Karissa blinked. “No.”

“Then get her one.”

“Why didn’t I think of that?” Malcolm fumed aloud. “I know better now.”

Karissa knew they had been so busy trying to save Steph that they hadn’t thought of the religion that had been of so little importance in their life together. Malcolm called Jud Kennedy, and they gave Stephanie a blessing. This time Karissa didn’t resent the religious interference, but prayed fervently for the Lord to hear their prayer.

Two days later, Karissa returned to see Dr. Fairfax. “How is she?” he asked.

“She’s keeping down about every other meal.” Karissa knew the hope showed clearly in her face.

“Five ounces. She’s gained five ounces!” Dr. Fairfax smiled. “It looks like whatever we’re doing is starting to work.”

Could it have been the blessing? Karissa didn’t know or care; it didn’t matter as long as Stephanie was going to be all right.

“Let’s see,” Dr. Fairfax said. “Today is Thursday. Why don’t you bring her back on Monday, and we’ll see how she is.”

That night, after putting the sleeping Stephanie in the crib Malcolm had made for her, Karissa curled up in Malcolm’s arms. The crib was in their room so they could hear if the baby needed them.

“I told you it would be okay,” Malcolm said.

“We don’t know that yet.”

His arms tightened. “I think the Lord was testing us. I think He wanted to show you that He could heal her. Maybe He wants you to come back to church.”

“So He plays games with babies’ lives?” Karissa said, turning her back toward him. “I don’t believe that, Malcolm.”

“Well, maybe not,” he conceded.

He continued to hold her rigid body. Finally, Karissa rolled back over and looked at him. “There’s no maybe. Stephanie shouldn’t have to suffer for our sins. You know that.”

“Will you come back to church with me?” Malcolm stared into her eyes, and she felt trapped. “I want us to go to the temple soon. Now that we’ve quit smoking, there’s nothing holding us back.”

Karissa stifled a wild urge to laugh. Malcolm was nothing if not persistent, and she didn’t know how much longer she could avoid the issue. “I’ve been through a lot,” she said. “Steph’s only sixteen days old, and I haven’t exactly been getting any sleep. Birth’s hard on a woman, you know. And with Steph’s problem, could you imagine the mess she’d make at church?”

Remorse bathed his face instantly. He touched her cheek in the lazy way she adored. “I’m sorry. You have been through a lot. I forget that sometimes. You’re a very strong person.”

“I don’t feel strong.”

He kissed her brow slowly, working his way down to her neck. “You are, though. And I love you.”

Karissa settled into the warmth of her husband’s arms, her back cradled against his chest. Maybe returning to church wouldn’t be so bad. Provided Stephanie continues to get better. It was her last thought before sleep took her.

That night she had the dream. Karissa fed Stephanie and the baby shook her head. “No more. No more.”

“You have to eat.”

“You gave me too much. Why did you do that?” Then she was still.

Karissa awoke and checked on Stephanie. She was sleeping soundly and peacefully. Dear Father, help me! Karissa prayed. Feeling better, she wiped the tears from her cheeks and returned to bed.

* * * * *

Little Stephanie threw up only three times in the next two days, and Karissa’s hope grew with each feeding. Her hope turned to agony on Saturday afternoon when her daughter began to throw up almost continuously. Throughout the night and the next day she and Malcolm tended and fed Stephanie, fearing that each episode brought their daughter closer to death. Malcolm didn’t go to church but stayed home to help Karissa.

Sunday night after Stephanie was finally asleep, Karissa changed her clothes for the sixth time that day. She threw the milk-soaked T-shirt and jeans into the dirty hamper, already full of at least eleven of Stephanie’s tiny outfits—all of which had been clean at the beginning of the day.

She locked the bathroom door and turned on the shower. Then she sat on the cold tile floor in her underwear and cried, tears flowing from her eyes in an unending stream. Her body felt more weary than she had ever remembered. Her back and arms ached from holding Stephanie, and her legs throbbed from pacing. Inside, her womb felt sore.

All this pain was nothing compared to the agony in her soul. What if Steph died from losing so much weight? Or from dehydration? What if she had some awful disease that the doctor had missed with all his tests? What if it was something not yet discovered? Something horrible and deadly? Her shoulders convulsed violently as she sobbed out her fear.

Worst of all, Karissa knew that she deserved the pain. But not Stephanie. Never her precious Steph. When would it all end?