Another Man's Child

URGENCY FUELED his blood as Marcus drove home. He wanted to be with Lisa in case the hospital called. He didn’t want her home alone when she heard the bad news. When he walked in the door, he could smell Hannah’s crab Alfredo coming from the kitchen. Lisa was in their office, working at her desk. She looked up at him when he came in, saw his worried expression.

“What’s wrong?” she said, rising. Her face got that pinched look he’d come to dread.

With his arm around her shoulders, Marcus led her to the leather couch that dominated one wall of the office. “Sara’s got some kind of infection, Lis. A nurse noticed her temperature rising when she was feeding her dinner. They had to call Randal Cunningham.”

“Oh, my God. Oh, no. Not now.” Lisa started to get up from the couch. “I’ve got to go.”

Marcus pulled her back down beside him. He was giving himself away, but seeing Lisa through this crisis was the only thing that mattered right then. “It’s okay for now, honey. They managed to stabilize her. The nurse said she’d call immediately if there was any change. The soonest they’ll let you in to see her is tomorrow morning, anyway, until they’re sure the antibiotic is working.”

Lisa’s big brown eyes stared at him, begging for reassurance that it wasn’t worse than he was telling her. He looked away.

“They had to put her back on the respirator, Lis.”

“No!” she cried, tears brimming in her eyes.

Marcus hated having to be the one to bring that frightened look back to her eyes, and he hated being powerless to make everything better. “She wasn’t getting enough oxygen, honey. I’m sorry.”

Lisa jumped up and began pacing in front of the couch. “She was doing great this morning. I can’t stand this. I can’t stand that her life is in question from minute to minute. She’s fine one minute and then in terrible danger the next. There’s never a time when the worry quits.”

His hands hanging uselessly between his knees, Marcus watched her pace. “I know, Lis. But you of all people know that as quickly as infections crop up, they go away, too.”

She nodded, and Marcus saw the exact moment she switched from the baby’s mother to an award-studded pediatrician. “Did they say what it was?” she asked brusquely, stopping in front of him.

“They didn’t know yet. When I left, Randal was sending blood to be tested.”

She nodded again, assimilating God only knew what in that quick brain of hers, but whatever it was, it panicked the mother in her. Her face crumpled and Marcus grabbed her hand, pulled her down beside him and into his arms.

“She’s beaten all the odds so far, Lis. Don’t give up on her now.”

“I’m n-not. It’s just so…so hard.” He felt the sobs that racked her body as he held her, the tears that wet his shirt, and could only marvel that she’d held up as long as she had. She was one helluva strong woman to be able to go to that nursery every day, to sit with her baby, to see the catheters they’d inserted into her scalp, her tiny feet, knowing all of the things that could easily go wrong.

Her tears stopped suddenly, and she pulled slightly away from Marcus, staring at him.

“How did you…Why were you there?” The hope in her eyes clawed at him.

“I, uh, only stopped by because I assumed you were there. I called here before I left work and you didn’t answer.” It was weak. He knew it was weak. But he still couldn’t allow her to hope for something he couldn’t give her.

“I was in the shower,” she said, studying him like a specimen under a microscope.

“I was going to offer to take you to dinner, but it smells like you’ve already put Hannah’s casserole in the oven.” Smooth, Cartwright. Why did he suddenly feel like he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar?

“It’s almost ready,” Lisa said, linking her arm through his and laying her head against his shoulder.

Marcus allowed himself to relax a fraction. She was going to let it go.

“Is it really all that bad that she’s back on the ventilator, Lis, other than that she’s lost some of the ground she gained? Ground she can regain?” he asked. He’d wondered about it all the way home from the hospital. And since Lisa knew he’d been there, anyway, he didn’t see the harm in asking her a couple of things.

She hugged his arm to her side. “I wish it was that simple,” she said, her voice small and worried. “But the longer Sara’s on the ventilator, the more chance there is of other things going wrong. Not only is there increased risk of brain damage, but her hearing and internal organs can be affected, too.”

He digested her words in silence. Did the worrying never stop?

“There comes a point when she’s just plain been on the machines too long.”

Brushing back her hair, he kissed her gently on the top of her head. “That’s not going to happen, Lis. You have to believe that, believe in her.”

“Did you see her, Marcus?”

He nodded, and then realized she couldn’t see him with her head pressed against him. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he answered, “I saw her.”