Chapter 25

In the months since Baby Owen left, Sarah went from gastroenterology to the oncology wards to rheumatology and then to the intensive care unit. Mrs. Gordon threw herself into helping with Ben Blackwell, and Sarah often saw her leaving in the morning on her way to take care of the little boy. Then Sarah started in the ICU, and she hardly saw anyone at all. The ICU was a hard rotation, and Sarah didn’t know how Helen had done it with morning sickness. Helen was over her vomiting now, but she was nine months pregnant and, with the twins, she was enormous. Thank goodness Helen had the easier elective rotations now. She could sit most of the day, and she didn’t take overnight call. Even so, Sarah didn’t know how Helen managed any rotation at all. She thought for certain Helen would need bed rest, but the babies showed no sign of trouble, and Helen carried on as if anyone could do what she was doing.

On Halloween, Julia Blackwell brought Ben to their apartment building to trick or treat. She said her building had too many young people and no one stayed home. Ben was dressed as a lion. He tapped so softly on Sarah’s door, she almost didn’t hear him.

“Happy Halloween!” She dropped a chocolate bar into his pumpkin bucket. “Can you roar?”

He didn’t answer her. He never raised his head. He trudged away with only a quick thank-you. Julia Blackwell nodded sadly and followed him.

Sarah expected the boy to be different, but she was surprised by how much. Frances Noonan had prepared her and asked her to stay home until he came so he would have as many doors to knock on as possible. They wanted to make this holiday as normal as they could, a holiday which should be fun and exciting for a child. Frances Noonan and Alma Gordon decorated some of the doors and painted a pumpkin for the table in the lobby. Sarah’s door sported a black cat cutout and an orange crescent moon.

“It’s worse than you can imagine,” Mrs. Noonan had told Sarah. “He’s stopped talking. He doesn’t smile. He has nightmares. He wakes screaming for Mommy. He barely eats. Julia is beside herself. She’s been to the pediatrician, but he couldn’t offer any suggestions except provide a stable, loving environment. She doesn’t know what to do. She had her hopes pinned on Paul’s coming home. Now that bail’s been denied for a second time, she’s losing faith. She’s even starting to doubt Spencer Tremaine.”

After seeing Ben, Sarah remembered how much she loved Halloween as a kid, the spooky costumes and the candy, and that made her all the more depressed about Ben. She planned to go out with Helen and Scott to a party given by a fellow medical resident, Karl. As she dressed, she debated calling Helen to cancel, but she had already asked them to start later because of Ben, so she couldn’t bow out now.

She also wanted to support Helen. If Helen could trek to a party when she was out to here with twins, Sarah could go too. Helen was due, and her doctor told her walking might stimulate the birth process. Helen took it to heart, hoping to get those babies out. Plus, she said this might be her last adult Halloween party for years to come.

Karl lived near the Castro, so Sarah, Helen, and Scott started there, gawking at the parade of wild costumes. The Castro was notorious for its Halloween crowds, though nothing like in the past. The area was packed with noise and festivity. Sarah thought of the little boy who had no pleasure from Halloween.

They dressed up themselves. Sarah was Cleopatra, an obvious costume with her long black hair, and one she had gotten several years ago. If she’d had to think up and put together a new costume that year, she never could have done it. The ICU was so time consuming and intense, all she did that month was work and sleep. That week’s mail lay in an unopened pile on the counter, and she hadn’t looked at her e-mail in days. Even Sarah’s Halloween candy had been supplied by Mrs. Noonan. Thank goodness the rotation was almost over.

Scott dressed as a devil, with red tights and a long pitchfork. Helen was a waddling white marshmallow, laughing and in a better mood than Sarah had seen in a while. Helen still had stamina, and they stood for half an hour watching the crowds pass on the sidewalk before they went to the party. Their costumes were tame compared with the revelers in the Castro. Sea creatures and mermaids cavorted in the streets, as well as men dressed as dogs on leashes and an occasional partier with no costume at all. Helen’s outfit got a lot of attention, and some people tried to pat the babies through her padding.

Sarah couldn’t figure out how they knew Helen was pregnant.

“It’s her glow,” Scott said, his hand on the front of the marshmallow too.

Sarah had never seen Scott so romantic. Helen told her that they had had a terrible row that week over where to move their desk. It used to sit in a huge San Francisco-sized closet they used as their study, but that study was now a nursery. The desk was in the living room along with the baby swings and playpen. The desktop was covered with stuffed animals and pacifiers. Scott saw every new toy as an assault on his PhD and said things he regretted. Helen said he was trying to make it up to her. And that he was doing a good job.

Sarah left the party early because she was on call the next night. She never got into the spirit of the party anyway. She couldn’t stop thinking about Ben. When she left, Helen was still going strong, sprawled in her marshmallow costume on Karl’s couch, her arm linked in Scott’s.

The very next day, Helen delivered the babies. A boy and a girl, Aidan and Emily. Sarah saw them a few hours after they were born, nestled in Helen’s arms on the maternity ward.

“You just missed Scott.” Helen radiated tranquility, a tiny sleeping bundle in each arm. Her short hair stuck up on one side and her mascara ran down to her cheek, but she still looked like a superwoman to Sarah.

“Scott’s gone home to rest. We were up most of the night. The contractions started as soon as we got home from the party. The doctor was sure right about stimulation. But these angels took their time coming out.” Helen tilted her head. “Look at them, Sarah! Aren’t they perfect?”

All Sarah could see were their closed eyes and noses, swaddled as they were in blankets, a tiny hat on each head, one pink, one blue. But their little faces did look perfect.

“They are indeed. Perfect little angels.”

A picture flashed in her mind of a trip she and her brother, Tim, had taken a few years before. They went to Mexico for El Dia de los Muertos, the Day of the Dead celebration, to honor and celebrate their parents. It had been cathartic and sad and happy and full of memories. They arrived on Halloween, and the Day of the Dead was two days later. Before that, however, was another celebration. Celebration was not the correct word, as Sarah and Tim did not see the same joy and spirit as on the Day of the Dead. They saw tears. Many tears.

That celebration, on the first day of November, was El Dia de los Angelitos. The Day of the Little Angels, to welcome back and remember dead children. Today, the day Helen’s twins were born, was El Dia de los Angelitos.