CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Following as closely as they could, Jake and Didi arrived at the hospital a few minutes after the ambulance. Drew paced the floor in the small waiting room outside of Labor and Delivery, tears spilling down his face.

“How is she?” Jake rested a tentative hand on Drew’s shoulder. Puffing, he dropped into a nearby chair and tried to breathe. It had been a long time since he’d been in a hospital. He avoided them whenever possible.

Gulping, Drew sagged into the seat next to him. “When the EMTs checked her out in the ambulance, she was in rough shape. She still hasn’t regained consciousness, and her blood pressure’s dangerously high.” He blinked rapidly. “The doctors took a quick look at her, and I heard the words ‘shallow breathing’ and ‘babies in distress.’ She’s in emergency surgery now. I barely got to kiss her on the cheek, and then she was gone.” Drew squeezed his eyes shut, covered his face with his palms, and trembled so hard the chair vibrated.

“Whoa, Drew, I’m sorry,” Jake murmured. His pulse rocketed, and he dragged in several deep breaths to slow his heart rate.

“The good news is the doctor can still hear two strong heartbeats, but they have to do a C-section.”

Didi eased into the seat on Drew’s other side, empathy written all over her face. “Do you want me to call anybody? Any of Donna’s friends or family?”

“Thanks for asking, but no, I don’t think so. I already called our pastor and then Donna’s parents. Since they live in California, they’re obviously not going to make it here tonight, but they’re trying to get a flight first thing tomorrow. I deliberated on calling my mom but decided against it. Nothing I do is ever right, and she’d fuss and argue with me and try to tell me what to do. I’m not up to that right now. I’ll call her tomorrow after we know more—maybe.”

Jake understood all about family dynamics. He agreed.

They hadn’t been waiting long when Pastor Andrea arrived, offering much needed prayers and support. She was a trim woman in her thirties with dark brown hair, paisley crop pants, and a bouncing ponytail. With a ready smile and kind, consoling words, she was indeed a comfort. She obviously knew what to do in situations like this.

Jake watched in misery as his friend worried and fretted. He should’ve been helping Drew through this, giving him hope and encouragement. Instead, he wanted to sprint for the nearest exit. Thank goodness, the women stepped in and helped soothe Drew while they all waited.

Distracted and edgy, Jake made a run to the cafeteria for coffee. He might not be able to do much else, but at least he could be useful.

The cafeteria was nearly empty, and he opted for a table in the far corner. He rested his head in his hands, and his heart hammered. Jake hated hospitals the way cats hated rain showers. They reminded him of Randy and Victoria.

When he was ten years old, his best friend was Randy Popkins. Randy was a boy who had places to go and things to do. Full of life, he loved camping, playing first base, riding his bike, and collecting baseball cards. He had his eye on a pretty girl named Danielle, who sat in the front of the class. He couldn’t decide if he wanted to be a cop or an astronaut, but Jake thought he’d make a good president. At ten, Randy was the smartest friend he had and also the nicest.

Weeks before the school year ended, Randy became increasingly achy and tired, and he suffered daily nosebleeds. Swearing Jake to secrecy, he hid his symptoms from his mom and dad, staying out of the house as much as possible so they wouldn’t notice. Randy didn’t want his parents to know about the bruises and the pressure under his ribs. He didn’t want them to know that sometimes the pain took his breath away. If he was sick, they might not let him play baseball.

Jake and Randy were on the same little league team—the Hunt Glen Hawks. During a chilly April practice game, Randy keeled over, chest heaving. The coach called an ambulance, and they whisked his friend off the baseball diamond. Uneasy, Jake plodded home alone, his stomach churning.

Randy’s parents didn’t waste any time getting answers. The doctors found he had lost eight pounds. He had a raging fever, and deep bruises covered his body. Jake’s buddy was admitted to the Johns Hopkins Children’s Center in Baltimore. The diagnosis was certain—acute leukemia.

Since Jake’s dad was long gone and his mother worked two jobs, most weeks Jake had no way to visit his friend. Sometimes on weekends, Mr. and Mrs. Popkins would take him with them to the hospital, where Randy had made himself at home on the eighth floor. Though Jake wanted to go whenever he was able—he really did—it was tough. In the Children’s Cancer Center, the walls were white, the floor was pale, the lights were bright, and the air was tinged with sadness.

It was agonizing to see his pal hurting. The nurses were kind and efficient, but Randy resembled a ghost—thin and sickly under crisp hospital sheets. At first, Jake didn’t know what to say, but he sensed that just being there helped. Randy slept a lot, but when he was awake, he tried his best to be cheerful. He was that kind of kid.

Over the course of a year, Randy was in and out of the hospital for countless tests, treatments, and procedures. There were rare days, and maybe a few good weeks, when his friend felt close to normal, but remissions were few and far between. By the time the doctors had detected the disease, the cancer had zoomed through Randy’s young body with a vengeance.

During the many days when Jake sat by his friend’s side, he found out Randy was a Christian. He never stopped fighting and never stopped believing in a loving God. Toward the end, Randy and Jake talked about heaven—and Jake believed, too. Knowing Randy had changed Jake’s entire life.

As he sat there in the shadows of the deserted cafeteria, his mind drifted further into territory he struggled to forget. The last time he’d seen Victoria had been in a hospital very much like this one. It had been the worst day of his life.

He had no idea how long he’d lingered, but he’d better be getting back to the others. Knowing how much Didi loved her tea, he bought hot water and three varieties of tea bags to be safe. He also bought coffee, chips, and candy bars, and the nice lady behind the register gave him a box to carry it all. At least the expedition had kept him busy for a while. Back upstairs, after distributing the snacks, he took a seat next to Didi and folded his arms, his feet fidgeting.

After another excruciating hour, the OB, Dr. Long, came out from behind the Labor and Delivery OR doors with a huge smile on his face. “Mr. Boyle?”

Drew was at his side like a shot. “Hey, Doc. Is Donna okay?”

“We had a few tense moments, but she’s a strong lady. Gestational diabetes can cause serious complications.”

“Diabetes? She has diabetes?” Drew’s forehead creased.

Wearily, Dr. Long pulled up a chair. “Gestational diabetes. It should go away now that she’s given birth, but your wife should keep an eye on her glucose level.”

“How’s she feeling?”

“She’s sore but conscious. The team was prepped and ready, and they were able to get the babies out in a hurry.”

Drew’s relief was palpable. “Hey. I’m a father!” He gave everyone, including Dr. Long, a high five and gazed around the room in awe.

Didi and Andrea cheered, and Jake managed a weak smile.

“Any possibility we can see the twins tonight?” Didi said.

Jake wished he’d asked.

“Yes, where are my boys, Jonathan Andrew and Christopher Jacob?” Drew sidled up and slapped Jake on the back. His excited grin was infectious.

Christopher Jacob?

“Christopher Jacob? Oh…wow. What an honor.” Jake gulped. He hadn’t expected that.

“We’re going to call him CJ, so the Jacob part won’t get lost.”

Dr. Long wiped his forehead. “The newborns are in the NICU, so they’re not ready for company quite yet.”

Drew flashed him a look of concern. “They’re okay, though, right? When do we get to take them home?”

“Not for a while yet. As expected with pre-term twins, they’re not quite as big as we like to see them. Baby number one is nearly five pounds, but baby number two is barely three and a half.” Dr. Long folded his hands, a hint of red flitting across his face. “I can’t believe we missed the sly little fellow.” He shook his head. “They’ll be staying here until their lungs develop more fully, and their blood sugar will need to be monitored. Otherwise, they’re doing great. They may be small, but they’re sturdy little guys. By the way, Donna asked to see you as soon as we’ve spruced her up.”

“Heck, I don’t care what she looks like. I want to see my wife.”

Dr. Long chuckled. “All right. I’ll take you back, but be gentle with her. She’s been through a lot.”

“Andrea, could you come too? I know she’d want to see you.” Drew glanced at the doctor for confirmation.

“I don’t think she’s quite up to non-family visitors yet.”

“But she’s special. She’s one of the ministers at our church.”

Andrea laid a hand on Drew’s shoulder and squeezed. “Comes in handy sometimes, huh?”

Dr. Long frowned slightly. “Oh, all right, but keep the visit brief. New mothers need rest.”

Drew turned to Didi and Jake. “Look, why don’t you guys go on home since you won’t be able to see Donna or the boys? I’m going to spend the night, so don’t wait for me. I can stay, right, Doc?”

Dr. Long snorted. “Why am I not surprised? There’s a lounge chair in the room that turns into a bed.” He headed toward the delivery room doors, glancing over his shoulder. “I hate to give good news and run, but I’ve got more work to do. You coming, Mr. Boyle?”

“Coming.” Drew’s wide grin engulfed them all, and he and Andrea hurried off with the doctor.

As the two disappeared through the doors, Didi clapped her hands. “Whew. What a wonderful gift from God. Two precious babies, and a happy, healthy mother and father. Jake, I know I just met your friends, but I like them already. Aren’t you excited?”

Floored by having a child named after him, Jake fought to pluck words from his brain. What could he say that would sound coherent? His emotions ran the gamut. He was overjoyed for Drew and Donna—and yet his stomach was roiling. He should have known better than to drink the hospital coffee. It had burned going down. “Sure, I’m excited,” he said quietly. “Hey, you didn’t get any dinner. Would you like to get something to eat?” Jake inhaled until it hurt and tried to stay calm. He needed to get out of here.

“Are you okay?” Her forehead wrinkling, Didi stared at him. “You’ve been acting odd since we got to the hospital.”

“Why don’t we discuss it later?” Jake grabbed Didi’s hand and rushed her down the corridor.

“Sure, but why don’t we go back to my place instead of going out? I’m sure I can rustle us up something edible.”

Jake nodded. In the car, he turned the radio to Saturday Night Jazz. He was appreciative that Didi gave him space. He tried to smile at her, but it was an effort. Keeping silent, he gave up any pretense of normality and drove back to her house. As he turned down the alley and his tires crunched on the gravel, he breathed a huge sigh of relief. Parking his SUV carefully, he switched off the ignition.

The sky rained down again, but it didn’t matter. Being with Didi was always good. Being alone with her was even better. Being alone with her and away from the hospital was the best.