Chapter Twenty-Two

The room was strangely silent, as it had been since Malcolm had walked out on her an hour before. For the first time since Stephanie’s admission to this hospital, the other cribs were all empty. The other sick children were either in surgery or still out in the halls with their mothers. The monitors were also silent, except for the occasional beep from Steph’s machine.

I’ve lost Malcolm, Karissa thought. Her agony over Stephanie’s condition had plummeted to new depths when Malcolm had stared at her, his burning accusation hanging in the air between them.

“What have I done?” Her whispered words mocked her.

The nurse came to take Steph for new X-rays, and when Karissa returned to the room she found the other parents and babies had returned. They smiled at Karissa as if nothing had happened.

“I’m taking Randy home,” one of the mothers said. “The doctor says he’s well enough.”

“That’s good,” Karissa responded automatically.

Randy was soon replaced by another sick infant who coughed repeatedly. Karissa worried that her daughter would contract some new disease and wouldn’t be able to make it through her surgery. She wished she could talk to Malcolm about the possibility, but he didn’t return.

Karissa’s mind replayed her confession and the look in Malcolm’s eyes. Did he hate her? Would he divorce her immediately?

When she could bear no more, Brionney called. “What’s wrong?” she asked after Karissa’s sorrowful greeting.

“Steph’s probably going to have surgery,” she said. “It’s more serious than they first thought, though the doctor insists it’s still minor surgery. I feel like I’m all alone.”

“Where’s Malcolm?”

“He left. I—I told him about . . . about . . . the . . .” Karissa let her voice fade away. “He’s upset.”

“Give him time,” Brionney said. “Look, you hang on tight. I’m going to call Delinda to stay with my kids, and I’ll be right down.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Karissa murmured.

“I want to. We’ll see you in a few minutes.”

A short time later, Malcolm returned with Dr. Mizra. He kissed Stephanie and stroked her cheek but didn’t meet Karissa’s eyes or greet her.

“The X-rays prove the surgery is necessary beyond any doubt,” said Dr. Mizra. “The best way I can explain it to you is that your daughter has what is called a duodenal web that blocks the food from entering the small intestine. We’ll have to remove this web. If all goes smoothly, as I believe it will, we should have her back at home in less than a week. So what do you say?”

Karissa glanced at Malcolm. “Okay.”

“Yeah, go ahead,” Malcolm agreed.

“Then I’ll have the necessary papers sent to you this evening,” said Dr. Mizra.

“When will you do it?” Malcolm asked.

“Dr. Schmidt has tentatively scheduled the surgery for Friday.” He smiled and left.

Friday, thought Karissa. That means we have to wait two more days. Now that she’d agreed to the surgery, two days seemed like an eternity for Stephanie to continue her suffering.

Karissa and Malcolm sat in silence. She wanted to reach out to him, but his angry eyes told her what he would say.

“So what was his name?” he asked quietly.

“Who?”

“The father of your baby.”

The question disconcerted her. “Tyler,” she said. “But I didn’t love him, I just thought I did. He—”

“You loved him enough, evidently.”

Karissa shut her eyes, fighting the tears. She deserved this. She deserved everything. “Yes,” she whispered.

Malcolm’s face showed no pity or compassion, only hurt and betrayal. She knew he would dredge up everything now, and doing so would only make things worse between them.

Salvation came in the form of Brionney. She walked into the room carrying a small blue and white cooler. Without permission, she boldly took Stephanie from her mother’s arms, careful of the IV and the white wires attached to her chest, and handed her to Malcolm. “Karissa and I are going somewhere,” she said firmly. “Delinda has sent along a nice dinner for you, Malcolm,” she added, kicking the cooler. She put an arm around Karissa and nearly dragged her to the door. “Let him watch Steph,” she whispered. “Whatever his feelings toward you, he’ll take care of her.”

Karissa had just fed the sleeping baby. There was no reason for her to reject Brionney’s offer, except her continuing reluctance to leave Stephanie in anyone else’s care. “Go on,” Malcolm said, as if reading her thoughts. “Stephanie will be fine with me.”

She decided to go. The tests were over, and there should be no more pain for Steph—not today, anyway. By leaving, she could put off Malcolm’s searing questions.

They went to Brionney’s house, where Karissa showered, ate a good meal, and talked quietly with the children, renewing their friendship. Not owning pants of a useful size to lend Karissa, Brionney washed and dried Karissa’s clothes. Delinda arrived as the clothes were ready, carrying a rectangular package for Karissa. “June drew it from those pictures of Steph you gave us the last time we came visiting teaching,” she explained.

Inside was another picture of Jesus, this time holding a baby that looked a lot like little Stephanie. There was a certain comfort in seeing her daughter with the Savior, but His eyes seemed to hold only reproach for Karissa.

“Thank you,” Karissa said. She left it on the counter and promptly forgot its existence.

Simply being with Brionney and her children eased Karissa’s sleep-deprived mind. It reminded her that in the face of all the trouble in the world, here at least was a slice of heaven on earth—albeit a noisy slice.

“The ward is planning a fast for Friday,” Delinda said to her. “We are all praying for little Steph.”

Karissa was touched more than she wanted to admit. Why would those people who barely knew her care so much about Stephanie? Had Malcolm made so much of an impression in the few months he’d been active?

“I need to get back,” Karissa said, blinking away the moisture gathering in her eyes. “It’s been an hour.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to eat any more?” Brionney asked.

Karissa smiled. “I’m already having trouble fitting into these pants, and they’re two sizes bigger than I normally wear.”

“I don’t believe it,” Brionney said. “They hang on you.”

Karissa looked down at the Levis she had borrowed from Malcolm, noticing with surprise that Brionney was right. When had she lost the weight? “I guess I’ve been too busy to eat.”

“Losing the pregnancy weight. That’s one blessing in all this,” Brionney said lightly.

“Maybe,” Karissa said, grabbing her coat from the sofa. “Come on. Steph might need me.” She dreaded going back to face Malcolm but knew she had no choice.

“Here,” Delinda said. “I brought you something else to read. I’ve marked some really good parts.” Glancing at the Ensign magazine Delinda shoved in her hand, Karissa saw that it was an old one, the May 1992 General Conference issue. Well, maybe reading it would keep her mind from Steph’s problems.

“Thanks so much for everything,” she said to Brionney as they got in her car. She threw her coat and purse into the empty backseat. “I really needed to get away. It feels great to be in clean clothes for a change.”

Brionney’s blue eyes clouded, and she didn’t start the engine. “There’s something I’ve been trying to tell you,” she began.

“What?”

“I just wanted . . . well I thought I should warn you . . .”

“What is it?” Karissa demanded. Whatever Brionney had to say couldn’t be worse than the nightmare she was going through with Stephanie, or the sense of impending doom she felt now that Malcolm knew her dark secret.

“Your dad’s coming.” Brionney’s blurted it out quickly.

Karissa stared at her as Brionney looked away.

“I called them a few days ago,” she added. “Your parents. I know I should have asked you, but I . . . I think you need them.”

Karissa shook her head, wondering at her friend’s audacity. “My father is the last person I need. When I called to tell them about Steph’s birth, all he wanted to know was when I was going to the temple. He as much as told me that I wasn’t really married at all, and that my daughter was practically born out of wed—”

“Maybe it’ll be different during this crisis.” Brionney’s face pleaded for understanding. “Maybe he’ll make things easier for you. I felt the impression to call him so strongly.”

Karissa glared. “You just don’t understand. There are three eternal facts in the universe: the earth revolves around the sun, the gospel is true, and my father is always right. Stephanie’s illness isn’t going to change anything. You shouldn’t have interfered. Stephanie is sick because I aborted my first baby. She’ suffering for my mistakes. I almost hate God for doing this to her. It’s me who should suffer, not Steph!”

Karissa shoved open the car door and fled, leaving Brionney behind. “Wait!” her friend called, but Karissa kept on running.

Melting snow piled about the streets, dirty now from water the cars splashed onto the sidewalks. Dirty as Karissa’s soul. Frustration, anger, and, yes, fear pulsed through her. Why? Why? Why? She wanted to shout it to the world. Why Steph? Poor, innocent Steph!

Tears stung her face, growing cold as soon as they left her eyes. As the flare of anger left her heart, she began to shiver in her ribbed turtleneck. Though it was long-sleeved, the green fabric was thin. Her Levis already felt stiff and frigid on her legs. She thought about returning to Brionney’s to retrieve her coat and purse from the car, but she couldn’t face her friend again. Why couldn’t she mind her own business?

Karissa glanced up and down the street, completely lost. Houses flanked the road, but they were unfamiliar. Which way to go? She had to call a taxi somehow. Steph might need her. This last thought brought a sense of panic. She waded through another slushy snowbank, grateful for the fur-lined leather boots on her feet. They kept out much of the cold, as her clothes did not.

Everywhere she looked there were houses and buildings, pavement and snow-filled lawns crowding in on her and making it difficult to breathe. She longed for her house on Kodiak set among the spruce and cottonwoods, with its backdrop of rolling hills and pristine mountains. The desire surprised her so much that she stumbled and nearly fell.

“Kar! Kar! Over here!”

She turned to see Damon calling her from his blue Mercedes. “Damon!”

“Hop in. I’ll take you to the hospital.”

“Brionney sent you,” she said, and kept on walking.

“I let Jesse off just as she was pulling out to go after you. She said you’d had a disagreement and you took off. That’s all I know. Come on, get in.” He leaned across the passenger seat and pushed open the door. With one hand on the wheel and the other trying to keep the door from closing, he looked comical.

Karissa shook her head.

“For crying out loud, Kar! It’s cold, and you’re not dressed for it. I have your coat here and your purse—you can’t go far without either. Now stop being difficult. You had a baby three weeks ago. Do you want to get sick? How will you help Steph then?”

Her steps faltered and stopped. Damon braked the car and pushed the door wide open. Karissa slipped inside, relishing the heat of the interior. She rolled something in her hands and, glancing down, was surprised to see it was the Ensign Delinda had given her.

Damon put the car in motion. “What happened?” he asked after a while.

“Nothing.”

“You don’t run away for nothing. What you mean is that it’s none of my business.”

Karissa didn’t respond.

He shrugged. “If you don’t want me to know—”

“She called my parents. My father. He’s coming to Alaska. I don’t want him here.”

“Why?”

“Because . . . because . . . I don’t want to be judged by anyone else. When my father sees what a mess I’ve made of my marriage . . . my life . . .”

Damon slowed and pulled to the curb. “I thought you and Malcolm were getting along great.” He spoke as if choosing his words carefully.

Karissa stared at her hand, twisting the Ensign. “We were. Then this thing with Steph—” Her eyes flew to his. “Steph! I have to get back.”

Damon handed her his cellular phone. “Call if you’re worried.”

The thought of talking to Malcolm frightened Karissa. “Could you talk to Malcolm?” she asked hesitantly.

Damon studied her for a long moment without speaking. Then he nodded.

She dialed the number and handed back the phone. “Don’t—please don’t tell him I’m here.”

His yellow-brown eyes bore into her, full of questions that he didn’t ask.

“Room four-oh-three, please,” he said into the phone. “Malcolm? Hi, Damon here. Is everything all right? How’s Steph?” There was a long pause. “A web in her stomach? Oh.” Another pause. “That’s good they can fix it. Can I do anything for you? Okay, let me know. You’re welcome. Bye.”

He clicked the phone shut and put it down. Silence. Why doesn’t he say something? Karissa thought. “How’s Steph?”

“Sleeping.” The engine still purred, but Damon made no move to put the car into gear. “Why didn’t you want to talk to your husband, Karissa?” he asked in that same careful voice.

“We had a fight—no, a problem.”

Damon watched her. “I know it’s none of my business, but is there anything I can do to help?”

“You could take away the past,” Karissa said bitterly.

“Karissa, you’re making no sense! This isn’t like you.”

She snorted. “You know so little of the real me. Just like Malcolm. You might as well know—everyone else does, or soon will.” She glared at him defiantly, but inside she felt a wrenching sadness. Now Damon would also look at her with revulsion and disappointment. “I had an abortion before I married Malcolm,” she continued before her courage failed. “I never told him.”

Damon blinked twice, but that was all. “How old were you?”

“I was sixteen. But what does it matter? I knew I was wrong. I knew it was murder.”

An odd expression filled Damon’s face. “What about your parents?”

“They never knew. I went all alone.”

“And the father?”

Karissa pushed her hair back from her face. “He gave me the money for the abortion.”

Damon’s face changed now, and it was an expression Karissa recognized. Anger! Disgust! She closed her eyes and waited for it to rip into her.

He grabbed her hand. “What a horrible thing to face alone. I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”

Her eyes snapped open. Her shock must have shown in her face because Damon continued earnestly. “Sixteen. Sixteen years old and alone! You can’t condemn yourself forever.”

“I did it, Damon. It was my choice.”

“What if he had stayed by you?”

Karissa’s voice was hardly more than a whisper. “I would have run away with him. I would have had my baby.”

She gripped Damon’s hand as if his touch alone kept her alive. “I hate my father,” she said. “Why couldn’t he just love me? Why couldn’t I have told him? I needed him.” She began to sob.

Damon pulled her close and patted her back. “I can’t answer for your father, Karissa. But I do know the Savior loves you.”

“It’s too late.”

“I don’t believe that. That’s not what the gospel teaches. You were so young—can you honestly say that you understood the consequences?”

She waved his words aside. “Malcolm will never forgive me.”

Damon’s lips curled. “Then he’s a fool! You’re the best thing that ever happened to him, and if he’s too blind to see it, well, I’m not. I don’t blame you for what happened in the past. I know you now. You’re a good person.”

“What do you know about it?” she said through her tears.

He took his arm away from her shoulders and grasped both her hands. “I know that if it had been you and me all those years ago, I would have married you and loved you and supported you. You wouldn’t have had to make the choice you did. No, don’t look away.” He turned her face toward him. “I’m still willing to do that. I love you, Kar! I have for a long time.”

“But—” Karissa’s tears had ceased, almost as if an internal tap had been shut off. She blinked, feeling her mouth open slightly, unbelievingly.

His hand moved to stroke her temple. “You’re so beautiful to me, Kar,” he whispered, his voice growing husky. “And smart and funny and intelligent. And beautiful. Oh, I guess I already said that one. Did you know that your sweater exactly matches your eyes?”

The fading light from outside the car filtered in and reflected off Damon’s blonde hair. She’d never noticed how kind his face was, or how strong. He looked a lot like she imagined an angel would look. Her angel.

Except this angel wasn’t following the rules.

She pushed his hand away. “Damon, you don’t understand. I’m married to Malcolm, and no matter what problems we’re going through right now, my commitment to him is first, above all. You shouldn’t be saying such things to me, and I shouldn’t be listening.” She remembered Jesse and Malcolm talking about how new members often had difficulty understanding how the missionaries were off limits for romantic relationships until someone explained it to them. Damon was a relatively new member, but surely he understood that his feelings for her were wrong and that voicing them was a greater sin. Even as an inactive member, she understood where this conversation could lead and what the consequences might be. She’d been down a similar path before, and she wouldn’t repeat it. “Think about how important covenants are in the Church—especially marriage covenants! I know you’ve only been a member a short time, Damon, but you must understand that we can’t be here together, talking like this.”

His face turned ashen. “I’m sorry,” he said with such remorse that she almost regretted the vehemence with which she had spoken. “You’re right. I am truly sorry. I’m completely out of line. The last thing I wanted to do was add to your problems. I simply wanted you to know that I love you just the way you are.” He raised a hand. “No, Kar, let me finish, and then I’ll never bring it up again. I promise. Please, hear me out!”

She inclined her head slightly, and he continued. “You need to know that you are worthy of anyone’s love. Satan would have you believe that you’re lost, that there is no escape or relief. He wants you to be in despair and to give up. He wants you to think you’re evil, even when you’re not. Most of all, he wants you to believe that you’re no longer loved. But it’s a lie, Kar. A big lie. I believe in the Savior. I believe in His redemption. I believe He loves you. Like I do.” Without waiting for a reply, he turned from her and flipped the car into gear.

They drove to the hospital in silence as Karissa pondered Damon’s confession, marveling that the frantic anger possessing her had disappeared in the face of his love. Even after knowing about the abortion, he loved her! And how do you feel about him? a voice inside her asked, unbidden.

She thought hard, unmindful of the progress they made through the cold, wet streets. The many times she’d worked with Damon filtered through her mind—the laughter, the friendship, the trust, the acceptance. Why couldn’t Malcolm be like more like Damon? Thoughts of her husband steered her back to common sense. She liked Damon and enjoyed being with him, and perhaps she could even grow to love him, but what was happening right now was between her and Malcolm. He was her husband, and she wanted to be with him.

Relief flooded her being, almost a spiritual feeling, though Karissa dismissed such a notion. She felt too soiled at the knowledge of her own guilt to expect help from the Lord. Her confused feelings for Damon only added to her burden, while at the same time, knowing he cared gave her comfort.

“Thank you,” she said to Damon when they arrived at the hospital.

“Remember what I said about the Lord forgiving you,” he told her as she stepped from the car. “I meant every word.”

Karissa nodded and turned away.

“Wait, your magazine.”

Karissa went to Steph’s room, the rolled Ensign in her hands. Malcolm looked up. “She’s awake,” he said tonelessly. “Do you want to feed her?”

Karissa dropped the Ensign on the table and took Stephanie in her arms. “Hi, sweetie, Mommy’s back.”

Malcolm stood. “I’m going to stretch my legs.”

Damon still cares for me, Karissa wanted to say. Why can’t you? Instead, she nodded and watched Malcolm leave the room without once having looked her in the eye.

Karissa held Steph tighter. “I’ve lost him,” she said to her daughter. “Please don’t let me lose you, too.”