Chapter Twenty

Monday, after a long, sleepless night, Karissa went to the Nissan and settled Stephanie in the car seat. The baby opened her eyes for a moment, and her little hands moved erratically in the air. Karissa sat beside her, smoothing the dark hair on her head. “It’s okay, Steph. I promise.” She knew the words meant nothing, but the baby slept again.

Malcolm’s face creased in a worried scowl as he drove them to the doctor’s office. Karissa said nothing to him. She wished she could cry to let out some of her terror, but after last night there were no tears left.

Dr. Fairfax examined Stephanie almost immediately. “We’re going to have to admit her. She’s becoming dehydrated. We’ll get her an IV and that should help.”

Karissa nodded stoically, grateful that at last something was being done.

Malcolm’s jaw dropped, then closed with a snap. “You can’t admit her,” he protested. “She needs to be with her family. She has to be all right. The Lord will heal her.”

Dr. Fairfax shook his head. “She’s too bad off not to be admitted. She’s lost too much weight.”

“But what’s wrong?” Karissa asked. “Why can’t anyone tell us what’s wrong?” She started to cry, and some distant part of her wondered where the new tears came from. An ugly, painful knot formed in her stomach.

“I don’t know what’s wrong,” said Dr. Fairfax gently. “No one does. Right now, I’m going to call Anchorage to see if they have a bed for Stephanie. We’re simply not equipped on Kodiak for this situation. It’s too severe.”

“What about calling in a specialist?”

Dr. Fairfax shook his head. “This is too serious to wait for such an opportunity. You’ll have to go to him.”

They sat in silence until the doctor returned. “They have no beds,” he said. “We’ll have to keep her in the hospital here until something comes up.”

“What about the other hospitals?” Karissa said. She desperately tried to act like an administrator instead of a frantic mother. Many times she had faced and solved similar crises. Of course, the difference this time was that it was her life that would be affected.

“I’ll keep checking.” The determined way Dr. Fairfax spoke renewed the fear in her heart.

“What about Lucy?” Malcolm asked.

Karissa snapped her fingers. “I’ll put her on it.” Technically, Lucy wasn’t her secretary anymore—or at least for the six months Karissa was taking off as director of the hospital—but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t help.

“I’ll talk to her,” Dr. Fairfax said. “You take Steph over to the hospital. I’ve ordered another urinalysis, a culture, and an upper GI series. That will get us on our way. I’ll be there before the tests are finished.”

At the hospital, Stephanie cried with all her frail strength when the nurse inserted the catheter. As there was so little fluid in Steph’s stomach to begin with, there was no urine to collect, and they had to wait for her bladder to fill. It took a long time. Karissa tried to feed her to help the process along, but Stephanie refused. She lay weakly in Karissa’s arms, her skin sagging loosely on her body, making her appear unnatural. The stark realization came to Karissa that there was absolutely nothing she could do for her baby, and she had never felt so utterly helpless. When she could finally bear no more, a welcome numbness spread over her heart and mind, dulling the terrible guilt and sorrow.

“We’re done here,” the nurse announced much later.

Karissa cuddled Stephanie to her chest and began to leave the room with Malcolm.

“You’re not taking that baby anywhere,” the nurse said tersely.

Karissa’s eyes flicked to the woman’s name tag. Didn’t she know who Karissa was? “My child is being admitted,” she returned icily. “You don’t have to act like I’m doing something wrong by holding her.” There was a deep fear inside of Karissa that they would take her baby away and she would never see her again. It had happened once. Of course, that time she had signed the papers permitting the procedure.

The doctor came in and waved the nurse away. “Still no bed in Anchorage,” he said. “But at least with an IV, she’ll get the water and food she needs.”

“How long will it be before we know about the bed?” Malcolm asked. His face had lost much of his color, and he looked as scared as Karissa felt.

“Damon,” Karissa said abruptly. “He’ll be able to help. He knows people.”

Malcolm’s face darkened. “So do you, for crying out loud! You talk to the directors at the other hospitals, don’t you?”

Karissa whirled, letting her frustration tear into him. “I’ve been a little busy, if you haven’t noticed!”

He stared, but slowly began to nod. “Okay, call him.”

“Stay with Stephanie?” Karissa asked. “Please? I don’t want her to be alone.”

“Of course I’ll stay. She’s my daughter, too.”

Relief flooded Karissa. At that moment, she couldn’t face seeing Steph in any more pain. She needed to escape, if only briefly. She quickly called Damon, but his secretary answered so she left a message. Then she dialed his home phone—to no avail. He probably had a cell phone, but she’d never needed to call it. Finally, she called Brionney’s number in Anchorage.

“Karissa!” Brionney sounded happy to hear from her. “I’ve been going to call you, but these twins are keeping me busy. How are things going with Stephanie? I bet she’s growing like a weed. You’ll have to send me a new picture.”

“She’s not growing,” Karissa said.

There was a shocked pause. “What’s going on?” Brionney asked slowly.

“Steph isn’t keeping her milk down. The doctors here don’t know what’s going on.”

“Oh, Karissa, I’m so sorry! Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I thought it would go away, or fix itself. Dr. Fairfax hoped it would. He thought at first that she just had a tender stomach or something. Maybe an allergy. But now he thinks it’s something more serious. They’re putting her on an IV now.”

“I’m so very sorry, Karissa. What can I do? I could fly out and stay with you.”

“No,” Karissa said. “You couldn’t do anything that we’re not doing now. But thanks anyway. I do need to know if you know where Damon is. He’s not at home or at his office.”

“He’s with Jesse. They went somewhere. Business.”

“If you see him before I catch him myself, can you tell him to call me?”

“Sure, but Karissa . . .”

She thought Brionney’s voice sounded uneasy, but maybe it was just the long distance between them. “Yes?”

“If you don’t mind my asking, why do you need Damon?”

“To help find a good hospital for her. So far we can’t find a bed at the pediatric hospital. Damon’s been here a lot longer than I have; he’ll know what strings to pull and who’s the best out there to take care of Steph.”

“Oh. All right. That makes sense.”

Karissa hung up, wondering at Brionney’s reluctance. What did she think Karissa wanted with Damon? Shrugging off the thought, she went to find where they had put Stephanie.

“We have a private room—for now,” Malcolm said, looking up from an easy chair and smiling weakly. Stephanie was asleep on her father’s chest, but her eyes fluttered at his voice. A portable metal crib stood nearby.

“Did she cry when they put the needle in?” Karissa asked, glancing at the IV in her daughter’s small arm and then back to Malcolm.

He didn’t meet her gaze. “Yes. I’m glad you weren’t here to see it.”

“I shouldn’t have left her.” Karissa smoothed Stephanie’s dark hair.

“I held her,” Malcolm said. “I took care of her.”

Of course he had. “I’m sorry.” She blinked back tears. “I know I couldn’t have done any better.”

“So what did Damon say?”

“I couldn’t reach him. I left a few messages, though.”

Malcolm jerked his chin toward the rocking chair next to him. “Have a seat.”

Karissa shook her head and slumped on the arm of his chair. “I need to be closer to her.”

He nodded, and after a few minutes said, “What will we do next?”

“We wait. There’s nothing to do but wait.”

They took turns holding Stephanie, feeding her occasionally and cleaning up after her. Karissa was glad the other beds in the room were vacant, giving them privacy to deal with their daughter. Minutes ticked painfully into hours.

Well into the afternoon, a nurse stuck her head in the door. “There’s a phone call for you, Mrs. Mathees. He wanted me to make sure you were here. I’ll have it transferred.”

Karissa glanced briefly at Malcolm’s unreadable features before rushing to the phone. It rang, and she picked it up.

“Hello?” Karissa said.

“Kar, it’s me, Damon.” His voice was intense.

She felt a rush of relief. “Thank Heaven! I need to talk with you.”

“I know. Brionney told me. I’m sorry I didn’t call earlier.”

“That’s all right. You couldn’t have known. It’s Stephanie, she—”

“I’ve talked to Dr. Fairfax,” he interrupted. “I’ve found a bed for Steph at a hospital here that has a great pediatric department. They have a doctor there, Robert Schmidt, who is one of the best pediatric doctors in Anchorage, and possibly in the entire United States. They’re waiting for you now. I’ll meet you at the airport on this side with an ambulance.”

Tears stung at Karissa’s eyes. “Thanks so much, Damon.”

“It’s nothing. I’m always going to be here for you.” His voice sounded strangely gruff. “Now hang up and get down to the airport. I’ve already told them you’re coming.”

* * * * *

Malcolm contemplated Karissa’s face during the flight to Anchorage. She looked more weary than he’d ever seen her. On her lap she held Stephanie, staring at her as if afraid to look away. In the next seat, a nurse from the hospital checked the baby’s IV.

He worried about Karissa. There was an undeniable connection between her and their daughter. As much as he feared losing Stephanie, he thought he could eventually come to terms with her loss. But not if Karissa followed her; he couldn’t lose them both.

As promised, Damon met them at the airport after the hour-long flight. He was only slightly shorter than Malcolm, and his blonde head was visible above the small crowd. “Kar, this way!” he called. Karissa waved and turned in his direction.

Malcolm hated the familiar way he addressed Karissa, though he admitted to himself that the man had done nothing to evoke his suspicions during the past months.

“The ambulance is over here,” Damon said. “I’ll follow you in my car.” Next to the ambulance, Malcolm noticed a dark blue Mercedes.

Karissa refused to relinquish the baby to anyone in the ambulance but continued to hold her. On the way to the hospital Stephanie cried, and Malcolm and Karissa tried uselessly to comfort her. The ambulance driver drove rapidly through town in the failing light, plowing headlong through the melting snow. Where had the day gone? thought Malcolm.

“You’ll like Robert Schmidt. He’s a good man,” Damon said when they arrived. He talked easily, and his words seemed to soothe Karissa’s nerves. Malcolm sized up the blonde man with the odd yellow-brown eyes, finding it difficult not to like him.

They hurried into the emergency room—the most filthy Malcolm had ever seen, with papers and bits of plastic spread over a floor that looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in a month. Karissa’s nose wrinkled. “Maybe we should go somewhere else,” she whispered uncertainly when Damon left them briefly.

She sounded frustrated and close to tears. In the face of her need, Malcolm felt his own strength increase. “I think there might be a reason we’re here,” he said. “Let’s give it a chance.”

Dr. Schmidt appeared after a tedious forty-five minute wait. He matched Malcolm’s height inch for inch, but he was larger boned. He had nondescript brown hair and eyes, yet his eyelashes were the longest and curliest Malcolm had ever seen on a man or woman.

“I’m Dr. Schmidt,” he said easily, his wide face cracking into a smile. “This must be little Stephanie.” He turned to the baby, who was lying on an examining table. “Hi there, Stephanie.” As he spoke, he pulled up her shirt and touched her stomach gently with his large hands. Then he pulled his hands away and lowered his face close to her body, studying it.

“Look at that,” he said. “There appears to be a rolling movement. That’s her stomach trying to push the food through the pyloric valve to the duodenum—the first part of the small intestine.” He straightened. “From what I see here and from her symptoms, she probably has pyloric stenosis. That’s when the muscle around the pyloric valve is too big and won’t allow the stomach to empty through the small intestine, instead causing the food to come back up. If that’s the case, we can correct it with minor surgery. We can’t be sure, however, until we do a few more tests.”

“Then it’s not too serious?” Malcolm asked.

“Not the surgery itself. But like I said, we have to make sure that’s what’s really wrong.”

He transferred Stephanie from the emergency area to a room with four large metal cribs. One stood empty, but the other three were filled with babies—all crying and coughing while their parents looked on miserably. The frequent beeping of the various machines and monitors added to the dismal feeling in the room.

Karissa settled into a comfortable chair next to Stephanie’s assigned crib, but she wouldn’t put the baby inside.

“Have you guys eaten?” Damon asked when he came to check on them.

Karissa didn’t reply.

“Not since this morning,” Malcolm said.

“Why don’t you get something to eat?” Damon suggested. “I could stay with Stephanie.”

“I’m not leaving her again,” Karissa said, looking up at him. “I left her when they put in the IV back on Kodiak. I couldn’t stand another test or to hear her cry again.” Tears squeezed out of the corners of her eyes and made a wet trail down her white face. “Do you think I’m awful for leaving her?” she asked. Before either of them could reply, her words tumbled on. “I deserted her once before, but I won’t do it again. Not now.”

Damon nodded, shifting uneasily. Malcolm touched her shoulder. “It’s going to be all right.”

Karissa didn’t reply.

“I’ll be back later,” Damon said. There was reluctance in his voice. “Please call me if you need anything. Anything at all.”

Dr. Schmidt came in as Damon left. “I’ve ordered a blood draw, and in the morning we’ll have some more tests.” He smiled confidently.

A nurse appeared and led them to a treatment room. Karissa held Stephanie as the nurse tried to take the baby’s blood. The first time she was unable to take anything, and the second time, she withdrew only a little. “That’s not enough for the tests,” she said, and tried again. The third time the blood clotted. “That’s a problem with dehydrated babies. The blood is very difficult to get out, and when you do get some, it tends to clot.” She poked Stephanie for a fourth time and took a little more blood.

Pity wrenched Malcolm as he watched his daughter burst into tears for the fourth time since they had entered the room. Karissa tried to soothe her, but he wondered how long it would be before the baby didn’t believe in her comfort anymore.

“I don’t think that’s enough blood.” The nurse wanted to try again.

“It has to be enough,” Karissa said sharply, pulling Stephanie to her chest. Her face was an angry red. “I’m not going to let you poke her again. I won’t. Not tonight, anyway. You do the tests with what you have.”

The nurse contemplated Karissa’s determined features. She glanced at Malcolm. “No more tonight,” he confirmed. “Let her sleep.” He meant Karissa as much as Stephanie.

They returned to Stephanie’s room and sat together, watching their daughter drift off to sleep after nursing at Karissa’s breast. The cries of babies, bleeps of the machines, and soft voices of the other parents filled the gap between them.

With no warning, Delinda Goodrich flounced into the room. “Oh, here you are.” She carried a large paper sack, and her gold bracelets tinkled together as she set it on the floor. “There’s food, magazines, books—everything you’ll need for a hospital stay except clothes.”

“You flew all the way from Kodiak to bring us this?” Karissa asked. She looked as if she was going to cry.

“Landsakes no!” Delinda said. “When I heard about what happened, I decided to come and visit my oldest daughter. She lives near here, you know, and she’s always complaining that I don’t get to see my grandchildren enough.”

Malcolm grasped her hand. “Thanks, Delinda. We’re grateful you’re here.” He was touched beyond expression.

The woman sniffed. “Oh, go on with you. I told you it’s not because of you. My daughter just needed a visit.”

But they all knew the truth. Delinda bent and put an arm around Karissa’s shoulders as she sat in the chair, giving a slight squeeze. “I’m here for you,” she whispered. “And so is your Father in Heaven. He loves you.”

Karissa bit her lip to keep it from trembling. “Thanks, Delinda. I mean it.”

“I know you do, dear.” Delinda touched Stephanie’s head with a soft hand before leaving.

Malcolm and Karissa stared after. “She’s a good woman,” Karissa said.