ON THE SURFACE, LIFE continued pleasantly at the Coulters’ after the opening of Ann’s office. Phillip tried to pretend things were no different than when his wife was working for Violet, and Ann still tried to have dinner on the table when he got home. A major worry was that Simon was becoming crippled with arthritis. Several times lately he had been unable to manage to pick Evie up at school, and the little girl had had to walk home alone.
Evie was independent, but Ann found herself nervously glancing at her watch these days around three, knowing that her daughter was getting out of school and hoping Simon had been able to make it. In the end she hired a young Mexican girl, Consuela, to come in around one, do a little cleaning, and pick up Evie if Simon wasn’t feeling well.
One morning Ann woke up to one of those days when everything went wrong. First, she had a flat tire and by the time the AAA came and fixed it, she was already late for her first meeting. Then, just as she was ready to dash out the door, Consuela phoned to say she couldn’t come in. Simon had a bad cold, so as Ann hustled Evie out of the car in front of her school she said, “Listen, honey, I’ll pick you up today, okay?”
“Okay, Mommy,” she agreed, giving her mother a hug.
Ann drove off, hoping to salvage what was left of her early appointment. It would be tough to get away from the office that afternoon, but she couldn’t think about that right now. She had so much to do. She was so rushed all day that she skipped lunch and never noticed the dark clouds that had blown up as she raced to see her two o’clock client. A moment after she arrived at the house she was closing, an icy, driving rain began. The closing was a tricky one, but she couldn’t concentrate. She knew that it must be near three, and, breaking off for a moment, she asked to use the phone, which was luckily still hooked up. It seemed an eternity before anyone at the school answered. “Hello?”
“Hello. This is Mrs. Coulter—Evie’s mother. Could you please tell her to wait? I’ll be a little late, but I’ll pick her up.”
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Coulter,” came the reply. “All the children have already left.”
“But I told Evie to wait for me.”
“We had an assembly today, and school let out at two-thirty. We sent a notice home with the children Monday.”
Ann had forgotten all about the crumpled slip of paper. “I see. Well, do you think you could just check and see if Evie’s sitting out in front?”
“I was just outside, Mrs. Coulter. Evie’s not there.”
“I see. Thank you.”
Ann hung up, on the verge of tears. That meant that Evie must be caught in the storm.
Quickly she phoned home, and as she listened to the steady ringing, admonished herself, Don’t be nervous. Evie’s probably there already.
Finally Simon answered, his voice wheezing with congestion.
“Dad … is Evie home?”
“No, Ann. I thought you were going to pick her up.”
“I was—but I got a little mixed up on the time. How’s the cold?”
“Fine, honey.”
He didn’t sound fine at all, Ann thought. Oh, Lord, what a day. There was really nothing to do. Evie had no doubt gotten tired of waiting for her, and realized that Mommy had forgotten about Assembly Day. She shouldn’t have walked in that rain, but Ann hoped she would have enough sense to come straight home and then dry off.
She went back to the living room, saying forcefully, “I think this is the best price you’re going to get. Doesn’t it seem a little foolish to quibble about a few thousand dollars over the long haul?”
She ended up making the deal, but she was so worried about Evie that she barely knew what she was doing. As soon as she could, she rushed to her car and carefully followed the route Evie took from school. That way, if, God forbid, she were still on the street, Ann would see her.
At last she turned into her own driveway, switched off the ignition, and ran up the steps.
“Evie? Evie, are you here?” she called as she slammed the front door behind her.
“In here, Mommy,” came the blessed reply.
Ann threw off her coat and started toward Evie’s bedroom when, to her surprise, Phillip came out.
“Where the hell have you been?” he shouted.
“I forgot that Evie got off school early today,” Ann said, fighting to control her temper. “And what, if I may ask, are you doing home?”
“Dad telephoned me at the office,” Phillip told her. “He said that you had called, asking if Evie had come home. He was worried, so I went to look for her. Okay?”
“Well, obviously you found her. Is she all right?”
“She’s home, at least—no thanks to you.” He wondered if Ann had any idea what he’d been through.
When he’d called her office, he’d merely been told that Ann was seeing a client and they couldn’t reach her. They had no idea if she was on her way to Evie’s school. Looking out at the storm, Phillip had decided to see if he could find Evie himself. It had been half an hour before he spotted his daughter, huddled miserably, almost out of sight, in a doorway. By that time he was half crazed with worry.
Seeing Ann standing calmly before him, omnipresent briefcase still in hand, he exploded. “Goddamn it, Ann! Don’t you care at all about Evie? Is your career so important to you that you’re willing to risk your child’s safety?”
Ann couldn’t have been more shocked had Phillip hit her between the eyes. Usually she tried not to react to his snide remarks about her career, but today she had been just as frightened about Evie as he had. And she was tired of apologizing for her work.
“Just who the hell do you think I’m working for if not for your daughter and your father? What luxuries do I ever buy for myself? I drive an old heap of a Chevrolet and I don’t buy fancy clothes. I never eat out. I don’t take vacations. And I’ve had enough of your sniping. There was a time when you were going to take care of me, remember? You wouldn’t even have your little clerking job with Kenny if it weren’t for me!” The moment the words were out of her mouth, Ann would have sold her soul to have recalled them. She wasn’t afraid of Phillip’s anger, but she couldn’t bear to see the pain she had inflicted so clearly etched on his face.
Phillip was stunned. So Ann had been responsible for the unexpected job offer from Kenny. He had always wondered why it had come so out of the blue.
“So you persuaded Kenny to give me a job….”
Ann couldn’t reply. She heard Evie cough and said, “I have to go in to see her. She needs me.”
“She needed you an hour ago. Too bad you didn’t think of her then. She’s okay now. I’ve already toweled her off and put her to bed.”
Ann no longer was listening. She walked down the hall and locked herself in the bathroom. Without turning on the light, she stumbled to the washbasin and braced her hands against the edge to stop the trembling. Hot tears streamed down her face. Stop it, she told herself. You don’t have to cry. You’ve got to work things out with Phillip. And you certainly can’t let Evie know anything is wrong.
With that, she washed her face and applied a little lipstick. It wasn’t going to be easy to pretend to Evie, but when Ann peered in her daughter’s door, the little girl was all smiles.
“Hi, Mommy!”
“Honey, why didn’t you wait at school as I told you?”
“I waited and waited and you didn’t come. So I thought that maybe you had forgotten.”
Sitting down on the edge of the bed, Ann smoothed a lock of Evie’s hair off her forehead. It was still damp.
Poor little thing. Phillip’s harsh words still resounded in Ann’s ears. Evie had a mother who forgot her promises. You deserve better, kiddo, she thought bitterly, knowing that there was a modicum of truth to what Phillip had said.
“I forgot you were getting out at two-thirty. I’m sorry.”
“Well, I got all wet and kind of scared, but it’s okay. Daddy came and got me.”
Evie didn’t mention the fact that at first she had thought it a great adventure to walk home in the rain. The puddles were enormous, the one at the corner of Gough and Lombard like a small lake, and Evie hadn’t missed one of them, blithely ignoring the water sloshing in over the tops of her boots. But then it had grown windier, and she had felt so cold.
“I took my clothes off and put them in the hamper in the bathroom.”
“That’s a good girl, Evie. Well, stay in bed and keep warm. I’m not going back to the office today.”
“That’s nice. Daddy and I are going to play a game of cards.”
“Great, honey. Let me talk to Grandpa for a moment and then I’ll make us all some hot chocolate. How does that sound?”
“That’s okay, Mommy. Daddy already made me some.”
Ann would have given anything to just crawl into bed herself, but she fixed dinner and first served Simon a tray in his bedroom and then fixed another tray for Evie and Phillip. When she placed it on the nightstand, she hoped Phillip would indicate she was forgiven, but he didn’t look up from the game. Later, when Evie went to sleep, he settled himself on the living room sofa.
Ann lay in bed, tossing and turning. She finally drifted off around two, only to be awakened an hour later by the unmistakable sound of a sick child coughing.
She got up and put on her robe. As she came out into the hall, she almost collided with Phillip, who had also heard Evie.
As Ann switched on the light, Phillip sat on the edge of Evie’s bed and felt her forehead with the back of his hand.
Her skin was burning hot. “Sweetheart,” he whispered softly, “how are you feeling?”
“Daddy, it hurts,” Evie croaked.
“Where, honey?”
In response, Evie indicated her throat.
“I’ll get the thermometer,” Ann said.
Phillip nodded, then bent over and lifted Evie into his arms, cradling her gently and murmuring, “I’m sorry you’re not feeling well, Princess. We’ll get something to fix you up. Probably too many card games, huh?”
The remark didn’t even raise a feeble smile.
Ann returned with the thermometer and said, “Open up, sweetheart.”
Evie’s temperature was 104. Ann was suddenly frightened. True, children’s temperatures could go up very high, but this had come on so suddenly, and her guilty conscience increased her sense of dread. What if Evie were really ill? It was all her fault.
“Ann, I think we should call Doctor Stein.”
It seemed to take an eternity for the exchange to locate him. For a half hour, she had kept her eyes pinned to the clock, while Phillip sat with Evie.
When the phone finally rang, Ann said, “Doctor Stein, thank God you’re back. Evie has a temperature of 104 and she’s coughing violently. She says her head’s splitting. She got caught in the rain yesterday and got chilled, I’m afraid.”
“Ann, it’s probably nothing, but I’ve just got back from the emergency room. I’m still dressed. Why don’t I run over and check her out?”
Ann immediately felt better, but by the time the doctor arrived, Evie’s temperature had climbed to 105 and she was screaming that her headache was so bad she could barely see. After examining her, Stein said, “Look, it could be just a very bad virus, but I think we should run her over to the hospital anyway.”
Ann felt as if she were trapped in a nightmare as they bundled Evie up and drove to Mount Zion Hospital. Dr. Stein took her off for a battery of tests, saying that Phillip and Ann could see the little girl as soon as they were through.
“Meningitis,” he said shortly when he returned to the waiting room.
“Oh, my God,” Phillip cried. “Will she be all right?”
“I think so,” Stein said, “but it’s a nasty illness. We have her on antibiotics, and the crisis should pass in a couple of days. Until then things can be a little frightening.”
For the rest of the night Ann and Phillip sat by Evie’s bedside, listening to their daughter’s agonized breathing, saying nothing.
If anything happens to her, Ann thought, she wouldn’t be able to go on living. To think that she was responsible for this horror…. The doctor could say that Evie’s agony was caused by a bacillus, but Ann knew it was her fault. Phillip certainly thought so—his angry accusations still echoed in Ann’s ears.
Phillip’s reflections were no less anguished. Evie was the only worthwhile thing he had created in life. She was the only person in the world who needed him. The idea of losing her was intolerable.
The two parents sat by their daughter’s bedside, isolated in their grief. It was as if they had become two strangers, no longer able to give to each other, even in this crisis.
Day broke, but neither was aware of it. As Evie’s condition worsened, they prayed for her to live, each silently acknowledging the fact that without her there was no reason to go on.
Finally the nurse came in again and told them they would have to wait outside while they did some more tests. In the corridor Ann suddenly remembered her office.
“I have to call and let them know that I won’t be in,” she said. “Do you want me to call for you too?”
“Later,” Phillip replied indifferently. He knew it didn’t really matter.
Ann reached May Brubeck at the office, an older woman with no family. She was thoroughly reliable, and had keys to everything. “Don’t you worry about a thing,” May told her. “Just concentrate on getting that little girl of yours better and I’ll keep things running smoothly here.”
“Thanks, May,” Ann said weakly. As she hung up the phone, she thought, Today, for all I care, the damned office can burn down—with my client files in it.
Going back to the waiting room, Ann saw Phillip’s eyes were closed, but it was impossible to tell if he was awake or not. Well, so what? They had nothing to say to each other at this point anyway.
All day, they alternated between Evie’s room and the hall. Ann wanted nothing to eat or drink; she felt that if she tried to swallow anything, she would choke. Phillip was pacing up and down like a caged animal.
Evie’s condition remained the same. At seven, they called Simon. “No change, Dad. We’re going to spend the night.” At some point after midnight, Ann fell asleep on a plastic-covered chair. When she awoke, it was just beginning to get light. All around her she heard sounds of the hospital coming to life, but in her fatigue and terror they sounded threatening rather than reassuring.
She decided that she could use some coffee, and she got some for Phillip, too. Waiting for the elevator to take her back up, she thought, I’ve barely thought of Phillip in all this. It must be as hard on him as it is on me.
He was still asleep when she returned to the waiting room. His face was gaunt, the skin tightly stretched over his cheekbones above a two-day growth of beard. All at once, her heart went out to him. Oh, Phillip, why, when we need each other so desperately, can’t we just reach out? Why do we seem to have nothing to give each other?
Swallowing the lump in her throat, she touched his shoulder gently. “Phillip, darling.”
He opened his eyes, and for a moment had no idea where he was. Then he sat up and ran his fingers through his hair in an ineffectual effort to smooth it.
“Coffee?”
“Thanks,” he said, taking the lukewarm cup.
“Phillip?” she said, sitting opposite him. “Can’t we at least talk to each other? For God’s sake, no matter what’s happened between us, we’re both Evie’s parents. We need each other. Or, at least, I need you,” she finished forlornly.
Phillip looked at her silently. Ann’s hollow eyes and ravaged face bore testimony to the agony and self-reproach she had been suffering. He no longer blamed her for leaving Evie out in the storm. Meningitis wasn’t caused by a chill: Dr. Stein had been quite clear on the subject. Ann wasn’t a negligent mother. It was unfair of him to have said so.
He wasn’t even angry anymore that she had interceded to get him a job. It was all so long ago….
Just then Evie’s nurse came out into the hall.
“Any news?” Ann cried.
“No, Mrs. Coulter. Her fever is still hovering around 106. The doctor is coming in to check her.”
Ann turned back to Phillip, her face devastated.
“Oh, Phillip—it’s all my fault. If only I had been on time to pick her up from school. Oh, Phillip. What if—what if she dies?”
Her voice broke on the last word, and she buried her face in her hands, her body shaking with sobs.
Phillip’s heart suddenly melted. Without thinking, he got up and took her into his arms, rocking her back and forth like a child. “It’s all right, darling. It wasn’t your fault, Ann. We’ll just do what we can to help her.”
Ann shook her head. “Why couldn’t I have been content with our life? Why did I think I had to work?”
“Ann, please don’t keep on punishing yourself.”
“But, Phillip, I’ve come to the conclusion that I’ve just about ruined our lives. And now Evie’s—” Her voice broke.
“Don’t think about that, Ann. It doesn’t help anything.”
“I have to think about it! I’m going to sell the agency. It’s just not worth what it’s doing to us.”
“Let’s talk about these things later. Right now, let’s just help each other through this.”
The sound of his deep voice soothed her. Phillip was still there for her. He had not let her down.
“I love you, darling,” she whispered.
Side by side, they walked down the hallway to Evie’s room. The door stood open, but a curtain was pulled around the bed. Several nurses were rushing to and fro with instruments, while Dr. Stein hovered over the little girl.
Stricken anew with fear, Ann grabbed the arm of one of the nurses. “What’s happening? Please tell us!”
“Her fever is still rising. The next couple of hours will be critical.”
They were allowed one glimpse of Evie. She had ceased to toss and turn; instead, she lay very still under the oxygen tent.
Fresh tears came to Ann’s eyes. “Come on, honey,” Phillip said, “we’re just getting in the way in here. They’ll call us the second anything happens.”
The waiting room was like a prison now. Ann paced distractedly, unable to sit for more than a minute or two, jumping nervously every time a nurse or doctor passed by. All she wanted to do was to stand by her daughter’s bedside, watch her breathe, touch her hand—but they wouldn’t let her. Phillip stood at the doorway, smoking cigarette after cigarette.
Suddenly Dr. Stein appeared. “Good news, folks. It looks as though she’s turned the corner. Her fever is starting to drop.”
In a voice so soft as to be almost inaudible, Phillip breathed, “Thank God. Thank God.”
After Dr. Stein left, Phillip turned to Ann, saying, “I want you to forgive me. I don’t need anything except you and Evie, alive and well. That’s all I want. I know I’m not easy—I allow my own stupid frustrations to get in the way of our relationship. But I’m grateful to you for all that you’ve done, proud of you. And, Ann—I do love you.”