"This has happened before," Dr. James Gallagher explained to me at Metro Medical. Aunt Cindy and I were speaking to him in his office and he was reading from Daddy's medical files. "It's in his records. It seems he was experiencing spasms that were caused because of a bullet fragment that migrated too close to his spine. It was impacting the spinal cord and it could have kept moving and cause more damage. Could have made him a quadriplegic. He was found unconscious."
"How long ago was it?" I asked.
"Oh, at least twenty," Dr. Gallagher read. "'09. By the looks of you, I suspect it was before you were even a second thought, huh?"
I nodded, playing with my key rings.
"Anyway, the docs operated and he would of died if not for his ah…well, I guess it would be your mother."
I gave him a pensive look. "What about my mother?"
"Well, there was a girl who was arrested in your father's room after they found her giving him a transfusion when the blood banks were tapped out. From the police reports she looked exactly like you. He's AB negative—very hard to come by. It's the rarest blood type."
"So in short this is the same thing all over again?"
"Well, he also might be anemic. We need to do a some tests on him, that's all. Trust me, Ms. Cale. We're doing our best to find out what caused him to collapse."
"What's anemic?" I asked. "I think I've heard of it before…"
Typing on his computer, Dr. Gallagher began to explain, "Anemic is when you have, of course, anemia. Oxygen is carried by hemoglobin, a substance found in red blood cells. When either red blood cells or hemoglobin are in short supply the body does not receive as much oxygen as needed. The problem known as anemia and can cause excessive tiredness, stroke and heart attack. While there are many causes of anemia, a blood test can usually detect any deficiency in red blood cells or hemoglobin."
"So, he might have had a stroke or a heart attack?" I asked fearfully.
"We're trying to figure that out," Dr. Gallagher said. "Surgery might also be an order. The blood banks are low, they have been since the Pulse. I can't help that."
"Logan's healthy," Aunt Cindy stressed. "I thought only sickly people get anemia."
"Anemia may be due to loss of blood from internal bleeding caused by a peptic ulcer or from hemorrhoids," Dr. Gallagher continued. "A healthy person whose diet contains plenty of iron and vitamins can produce large amounts of new blood. However, if your diet is inadequate, even small, persistent losses of blood may cause anemia." He was beginning to sound like a textbook.
"My daddy's a culinary mastermind. He eats plenty," I insisted.
"After Max died—that's his wife, doc—Logan didn't really eat or nothing for weeks," Aunt Cindy revealed. "But he began to regain a healthier lifestyle as time went on."
"There are several kinds of anemia," Dr. Gallagher told us. "Iron-deficiency anemia can develop in those who do not have enough iron, which is an essential ingredient of hemoglobin." He produced two small bottles of pills and set them on his desk. "Lack of Vitamin B-12 or folic acid can result in Vitamin B-12 deficient anemia and folic acid deficient anemia. Hemolytic anemia occurs when red blood cells are destroyed more quickly than they can be replaced. That's mainly what we're testing for."
"I'm sure Logan will be oh-so-thrilled to find this all out," Aunt Cindy rolled her eyes.
"The symptoms of anemia include fatigue, weakness, fainting, breathlessness, and heart palpitations. Has Mr. Cale been experiencing any of these?" Dr. Gallagher asked Aunt Cindy sharply. "I understand you lived with him for sometime."
"Only to take care of his baby after Max died. She ain't held out too long after the birthin'," Aunt Cindy shot back. Her face softened as she rubbed my back affectionately. "Takin' care of babies wasn't exactly his specialty. But I don't think anythin' was wrong with his heart. Fainting, no. Fatigue and weakness?" Aunt Cindy asked me and I nodded.
"Daddy's been tired a lot lately. He's always active though, even when his personal trainer told him to rest."
"Ah-ha!" exclaimed Dr. Gallagher, spinning around in his chair from one end of his desk to the other. "Overworking causes fatigue. I think we caught the culprit. Of course, we won't know anything until we get the results from the tests back."
"When can we see him?" I asked.
"Later, after we take some blood samples."
It seemed like forever. Aunt Cindy and I sat in the crowded waiting room. Babies and small children screamed. People missed work and appointments while lingering for news on their family members. Receptionists were yelling into phones. All I could do is sit and wait and I hated it. I wanted to get up and pace but Aunt Cindy had already told me not to.
"It just makes people nervous. I get nervous when I see other people pacing. Don't you start."
Sighing, I wrapped myself in my mother's leather jacket and unhooked the slender gold chain that held her wedding ring from around my neck. I put the chain in the pocket of my jeans and slipped the delicate gold band onto the third finger of my left hand. It didn't feel wrong. It didn't feel right. I tried to think of the feelings my mother had felt when Daddy proposed to her. Was she terrified? Did she need time to think? Or was she so incredibly happy that she said yes without thinking?
I shivered and took the ring off, running my fingertip along To Max With Love. I played with the ring for a few minutes, slipping it onto each finger and twirling it around, the whole time thinking back to my mother. I hadn't thought about her for years and now all of a sudden Daddy was in the hospital and she is the first person that pops into my mind. I held the ring up to my face and peered through it as if it were a window that would show me my mother's face. What was Daddy thinking about in that hospital bed? Mom? Me? His own welfare? Was he thinking at all?
Stop thinking, Maxine Guevara Cale, I scolded myself. You'll make yourself sick with worry. Put that ring away, it's too easy to get mugged these days. Hadn't Daddy said that years earlier? Ah, yes—the flower incident. I never did pick up those flowers that day, the day that started it all. What if I had gotten the flowers instead of lollygagging in my room reading and I hadn't heard Daddy and Bling talking about my mother? This whole thing was a big What If.
"Aunt Cindy?" I asked, stringing the ring back onto the chain and fastening it around my neck again. The coldness of the gold sent a tiny chill up my neck. "What happened the day I was born?"
"Why, didn't Logan ever tell you?" Aunt Cindy asked, reading a magazine.
"Never a straight answer," I admitted.
Aunt Cindy rolled up the magazine and tapped her knee with it. "Everyone thought it would be a happy day," she said.
"I don't want to hear anything sad," I pleaded. "Tell me what happened."
She thought a moment and laughed. "Well, Max went into labor at around noon. She say, 'Logan, call Original Cindy and tell her to meet us there.' I get this phone call, baby boo, I can't make out half the stuff yo' daddy's sayin'. It's all hurried and the only words I could make out were Max, baby and hospital."
I laughed with her. I couldn't imagine Daddy being so harried.
"So I run over to Foggle Towers and I see your momma and daddy just as they leavin' so I followed them into the car and we were on our way to the hospital and Max was screamin', I want them to fill me up with drugs! Put me to sleep! Have them knock me out!"
I began to crack up. Some people in the noisy waiting room looked at Aunt Cindy and me as if I were crazy. "Why can't I picture a woman like my mother complaining about labor pain?"
"I never thought I could until I seen it myself."
We sighed at the same time and I hugged her. "Did Mom ever see me?"
"See you? What'chu mean, baby boo?"
"She died right after I was born, right? Did she see me or…"
"Oh, she held you for a good ten minutes," Aunt Cindy assured me. "She fell in love with you the moment she laid eyes on you and so did Logan. I remember him saying to Max when she was about six months pregnant, 'If we have a girl I hope she looks just like you.'" She ran her finger along my cheek. "You really were a beautiful baby, Maxine. Dark hair right from the beginning, pretty little mouth and nose, your mama's kitty-cat eyes. I loved holding you, being jealous of Logan to have such a perfect child."
"I'm sure I wasn't perfect," I crinkled my nose.
"Nobody is," she joked.
"Maxine Cale?" a nurse called out my name. "Is there a Maxine Cale here?"
"Me! Nurse, that's me!" I called out, jumping out of my chair.
The redheaded woman glared at me as if I had interrupted her. "Dr. Gallagher wants to see you now."
I looked at the clock on the wall. Aunt Cindy and I had been waiting for a good four hours in the waiting room.
"When they mean waiting room, they sure do mean wait," Aunt Cindy grumbled as she followed me while I followed the nurse.
"We ran some tests," Dr. Gallagher announced when we met up with him again. "It is certain he had a stroke."
A gasp caught in my throat and I held onto Aunt Cindy, who leaned against the wall.
"We'll have the test results in twenty-four hours, to be positive about his potential anemia. You can see your father now, but only for a few minutes."
I was scared to enter Daddy's hospital room. I could hear the monotonous bleep…bleep…bleep of the heart monitor and the faint hiss of the oxygen respirator. I slid down the wall and plopped onto the cold tile floor.
"Baby boo, c'mon. Get up," Aunt Cindy hoisted me up and I clutched Mom's wedding ring, the chain cutting into my neck. "Now or never."
I wanted to cry when I saw Daddy. He looked so pale and weak, so unlike him. His glasses were off and little pads connected to machines were stuck on his chest like round band-aids. I tried to turn around and leave but Aunt Cindy stood in my way.
"I know you're scared but you gotta face up, baby," she whispered in my ear.
Trembling, I walked over to Daddy's bed and sat in an old beat up armchair next to it. Aunt Cindy stood behind me.
"Dr. Gallagher said to talk to him," she prodded, putting her hands on my shoulders.
I cleared my throat, "Hi, Daddy," I said, choking on sobs. "I-I'm sorry I wasn't home earlier. Nikka and I were having so much fun cleaning up together. She…we were…thank you for the jacket." I took off the leather jacket and placed it in my lap. "You were right. It keeps me warm." I couldn't think of anything else to say. What do you say to your father, your only parent, who is lying helpless in a hospital bed? I but my trembling hand over his and let it rest there for a few minutes. I closed my eyes and prayed hard. I didn't know any real Christian or Catholic psalms or anything—we were never church-going—but simply talking to God would have to do.
Please God, Logan Cale is all I have, I prayed. If You took him away I'd have to ask You to take me, too. I can't live without him. I'm his Daddy's girl. He's a good man, God, he's never hurt anything or anyone and has a heart full of love for me and other people. Let him live God, please. I'll do anything for You if You'll just let him pull through. My father's been through enough over the past thirty years. You took away his legs and my mother from him—do not take away his life and do not take him away from me.
Bargaining with prayer. It usually never worked according to Gina but I was desperate.
"C'mon, Maxine, "Aunt Cindy said. "They sayin' we gotta blaze."
"No…Aunt Cindy I can't leave. He's gonna wake up any second and I want him to see me first," I insisted. My resistance to leave was childish and I knew it but leaving was the last thing I wanted to do. "Did Daddy leave when my mother was dying?"
"No one knew your mother was going to die, Maxine. She just did, plain as day. One of them unexplained things," Aunt Cindy spoke harshly as if all those pretty stories I was told as a young child about my mom being carried off by a beautiful angel up to Heaven were simply silly little tales. "We can't stay much longer. These people got better things to do than harass you to leave."
Go ahead and leave, I told myself. You're eighteen, much too old to still be thinking about beautiful angels and the special place in Heaven where all the transgenics go.
