Chapter Thirty-Four
Kendall fished her cell phone from her purse, while Zach got his from his suit jacket. On opposite sides of the bed they perched, listening to their various messages. Almost simultaneously, each sucked in his or her breath and tensed, as similar expressions of undisguised alarm and foreboding crept over each of their faces. Each of them then quickly switched off his or her cell phone, and turned to face the other. Kendall's features still wore an alarmed expression, while Zach had more successfully composed his into a semblance of calm.
"Oh my god, Zach, Myrtle called me about Miranda! She didn't know if Greenlee had gotten hold of me, and—," Kendall began, at the same time as Zach said, "That was Edie. Myrtle is trying to reach one of us. It's about Miranda—"
"Then you know! Miranda's in the hospital! And it's bad," Kendall finished, her voice trembling as it rose. "It's really, really bad."
"No. You know more than I do. Edie didn't have the details. Try to tell me everything Myrtle said."
Kendall took a deep breath. "Myrtle said…she said…they're afraid it's—oh, Zach, they think Miranda has meningitis. They're running all kinds of tests."
Zach swore softly. "Did Myrtle's message say how it happened?"
"Just that—that—Miranda came down with a fever last night and—a really high one and Greenlee couldn't get her temperature down—and this morning she started having seizures—so they rushed her to the ER. Oh, god…and I didn't know…!"
Zach went around to Kendall's side of the bed and sat beside her. Somehow his arm ended up around her shoulders again and he administered a bracing little shake. "You couldn't have known if Greenlee didn't tell you," he said tightly. "Which she should have done, but that's another issue. All right, Miranda was admitted to the hospital with symptoms of meningitis. Do we know any more than that?"
Kendall sprang to her feet like a panicky fawn, her face a mask of fear. "That's the worst part, Zach! Miranda's unconscious—and they aren't sure—they aren't even sure she's going to make it," she cried. "Oh god, I can't believe this is happening. Come on, don't just sit there, we need to leave for home right away!"
His hand reached out to clasp her wrist before she could spring completely away. Trying to keep his own voice calm, Zach said, "All right, but first I want to call the hospital and see if anything's changed since Myrtle left that message. Do you remember the time stamp on it?"
"No, but does it make any difference? It doesn't sound like Miranda's going to get better in a few hours!" Kendall's voice bordered on hysteria. "Oh, no—you don't think she's already—?"
His grip on her wrist tightened before he released it, also stood, and replied firmly, "No. I don't think that. I want to make sure Myrtle's information is correct and current." Going to the room phone, he asked the operator to connect him to the patient information desk at Pine Valley Hospital in Pine Valley, Pennsylvania. "I'm on hold, waiting for a nurse," he told Kendall as his call was bounced through the chain of command.
Somehow remembering there was an extension phone in the bathroom, Kendall flew to it just in time to hear a nurse finally come on the line in response to Zach's repeated demand to speak to someone authorized to release information on his niece's condition. Together, they heard official verification that Miranda had been admitted that day—and that her condition was listed as critical. "Thank you. Miranda's aunt, Kendall Hart, and I are out of town," Zach told the nurse before hanging up. "Expect us in three to four hours."
Kendall flew back into the bedroom and began grabbing her previously discarded clothes from the floor, jamming them into the nearest bag. It happened to be Zach's, but she didn't appear to notice. "Hurry up, Zach!" she begged. "We can't take any chances. If Miranda is gone before we get there…get your stuff and come on!"
He clutched her wrist once more to get her attention. "All right. We But you realize that if we return to Pine Valley not married to each other the entire raison d'être for this trip goes up in smoke."
"Not married?" she repeated blankly.
"Why we came here," Zach reminded her since, somewhat absurdly—or maybe not so, after all—it seemed necessary.
Kendall's hands fell to her sides. "Oh. That's right," she whispered. "So whether we stay here and get married tomorrow or whether go home now, we're screwed either way. My brilliant ideas always go up in smoke sooner or later, don't they?"
"You couldn't have foreseen this."
Her voice grew more emotional and strident. "Jesus fucking Christ,why can't anything ever go right? My mother, my sister, now my niece…even Ethan…tell me, Zach, why is this happening—why? Did I do something? I must have done something."
"I can't tell you that, Kendall," he said quietly. He heard himself go on, although he didn't know if she was listening, "But one thing I've learned from being a gambler. The harder you try to win against an opponent, the harder he tries to win against you. That's why you put up walls, to keep him guessing." When he saw that she was listening, he continued, "But if he's already gotten to you, if he's determined to win, you stand still, keep your cards to yourself, and wait until he fucks up and shows his hand. Then you strike when he's weak, and you'll win. More often than not, that's what'll happen. But sometimes your opponent already holds all the cards, and Kendall, this is one of those. Fight it if you must, but you won't win. So save your strength for a fight you can win."
"Zach…I've never heard you talk quite like that before."
"It's how I talk to myself," he shrugged. "I'm full of shit, but you know what? I'm a captive audience. So were you."
"No—no, you're not full of shit, at least not about this. Getting hysterical doesn'tdo anybody any good. You're actually right."
Flashing one of his very brief, barely perceptible smiles, Zach replied, "Remember one thing, Kendall. We won't go home married. But we will go home engaged. If that's still your wish."
"I guess it is, for now anyway. Zach…."
He was packing his own few things that required it. "Hmm?"
"I keep hearing airplanes so there must be an airport nearby. I was thinking we could fly home.
"I believe Washington National Airport is a few miles north of where we are. But I thought I told you flying wouldn't be faster than driving."
Kendall sounded a bit tentative. "I didn't mean because it would be faster to fly. I meant because—well, if I'm tired, Zach, then you must be positively exhausted. It was a long drive here and it's another long drive home."
"I can manage, Kendall. We should be home before eleven. I don't plan to stop, so I suggest we have some of this food before we go."
The balance of their small amount of packing was accomplished quickly; just as quickly they wolfed down enough bites of salad, cheese, and fruit, all of which now seemed tasteless, to tide them over. Since one of the waiters had already opened the champagne bottle, the champagne had to go to waste—but this was no longer a celebration of any kind.
Checking out of the hotel then took only minutes, Zach's SUV was brought around to the front of the hotel, and in short order he and Kendall were once more belted in and on the road, heading back toward Pine Valley. Traffic was light, the trip was without incident both inside and outside the vehicle. As Zach predicted, they turned off the road and into the Pine Valley Hospital car park a little before eleven p.m.
Kendall was thinking how the previous twelve hours seemed like a very strange and unsettling dream—her meeting with Livia, J.R.'s threat, her desperate proposal to and flight with Zach…one of the few things that made it all seem real at all was the stunning ring on her finger. Its twinkling multi-faceted radiance became almost hypnotic as she twisted and turned it on her finger, making a pastime of mirroring passing road lights in its reflective multiple gems. The ring was more communicative than Zach—conversation between herself and him was desultory. He seemed to withdraw into himself at the start of the trip, popping another classical music CD into the dashboard and seldom remarking on anything after that, even as they drove up the George Washington Parkway across the Potomac River from Washington, D.C. and its myriad landmarks, lit up and glowing in the darkness.
Watching Zach's hands guide the steering wheel, Kendall spent considerable time as the miles rolled past recalling all too well how unerringly those hands had guided her into the passion she normally craved. Somehow it hadn't come as a surprise that Zach was so adept, not after the brief preview of his skills she'd had up in his Seasons suite, nor had her physical response to him surprised her for the same reason. His ability to reach her on an even deeper level did come as a surprise, though. That also allseemed like a dream to Kendall now and, lord help her, despite everything she caught herself hoping she could have the same dream again. But if Zach shared her curiosity, he wasn't letting on, and she kept her distracting thoughts to herself.
The hospital visitors' car park was almost empty this time of night. Zach eased the Range Rover into a space near the entrance and Kendall stretched her cramped limbs.
"God, I'm such a nervous wreck, Zach! This was one trip I never really wanted to end even though I was so impatient for it to end," she commented anxiously as they sped up in the elevator to the pediatric ICU as pointed out by the staff member in the main lobby who'd received Kendall's urgent plea for directions. Zach made no comment. When they reached their destination they found a small enclosed waiting room with some seating, a desk manned by a nurse, and several doors leading from it.
Sprawled on one of the chairs, with arms folded across his chest, legs slackly extended to their full length, and mouth hanging part-way open as he quietly snored, was Ryan Lavery.
"Oh shit," Kendall, muttered under her breath.
But Ryan did not awaken as Kendall rushed over to the nurse. "I'm Kendall Hart. Miranda Montgomery's my niece—is she still critical? Can we see her?"
"Ms. Hart and Mr.—?" the nurse inquired, looking up at Zach.
"Slater," Zach said. "Miranda's aunt and uncle."
"Good. Dr. Martin wanted me to be on the lookout for you both." Checking some notes, the nurse continued, "Miranda's still critical. She's on IV in one of the isolation rooms. Mrs. Lavery is with her and so is Dr. Martin. We only allow one visitor in there at a time, so you'll have to wait for Mrs. Lavery to leave before one of you can go in, but you can speak with Dr. Martin when he comes out."
Opening her mouth to protest, Kendall saw Zach's warning glance and closed it again. This was one of those fights she wouldn't win. Greenlee would have to come out sometime. Instead Kendall asked, "Dr. Martin is treating Miranda?"
Joe Martin, M.D., was not only a highly experienced and respected physician in his own right, he was the long-time Chief of Staff of Pine Valley Hospital—and one of her family's oldest friends. In fact, Joe Martin had once been Erica's father-in-law during Erica's first marriage to his son Jeff, and Erica's mother Mona Kane had been Joe's devoted secretary for many years before Mona's death. The mere mention of Joe's name was reassuring to the extent that anything could have been reassuring during this nightmare; at any rate, Miranda could not possibly have been in better hands.
The nurse nodded. "Yes, Dr. Martin wouldn't allow anyone else to handle the case. Oh, here he comes now."
Joe Martin came striding wearily through one of the doors, garbed in a gown and a loosened face mask around his neck. When he noticed Kendall and Zach, he went straight over to them. "Kendall," he said without preamble, inclining his head briefly to Zach, "I've just checked in on Miranda again. Why don't we go sit down and I'll fill you in." Joe led them to a small private consultation area separated by partitions from the general waiting area.
As soon as they were seated, Kendall gasped out, "How is she, Joe? Is she going to make it?"
"We're doing our best, Kendall—and Mr. Slater," Joe sighed. "Her condition right now, however, is very serious. She's had a lumbar puncture, and—"
"What's that?" Kendall interrupted fearfully.
"It's what you know as a spinal tap, Kendall," the doctor explained. "It's a procedure where we remove a small amount of fluid from around the brain and spinal cord and examine it for infection of the meninges—membrane covering the brain and spinal cord. That's what meningitis is, an infection of the meninges."
"Is that what Miranda has, Dr. Martin?" Zach asked.
Joe Martin looked from Zach to Kendall. "I'm afraid our lab results confirmed that Miranda does indeed have meningitis."
Unconsciously, Kendall grabbed at Zach's arm before asking. "The nurse said she was—hooked up. Please tell me right now, Joe—is Miranda on life support?"
"Not the way I think you mean, Kendall. Miranda's intubated to provide her with oxygen, because she's getting medications that stop her seizures but also suppress her respiration. We've also got multiple antibiotics going in her via an IV line to fight the infection. It may look and sound alarming, but we sedated Miranda simply for her own protection, to prevent her from accidentally extubating herself."
While Kendall was digesting this medical jargon, Zach spoke up again. "Have you learned what caused the infection?"
Joe's face assumed an even graver expression. "Unfortunately, we have, Mr., Slater, and it's not good news either. According to Miranda's blood workup, all her cell lines—by which I mean white blood cells to fight infection, red blood cells to bring oxygen, and platelets, for clotting—are dangerously low. Miranda caught the infection because she couldn't fight it off."
"So there's an underlying condition."
"Again, unfortunately—yes, Mr. Slater. We' diagnosed Miranda with a very serious condition called aplastic anemia. Potentially life-threatening. I was just in explaining to Greenlee, and I'm very glad you two arrived when you did so I don't waste any more time explaining it to you, the recommended treatment is a bone marrow transplant and time is of the essence. That means we need to start screening donors. As Miranda's nearest blood relatives we'll want to screen both of you, as soon as possi—"
"Joe, what does that mean? Will screening take very long?" Kendall broke in.
"Not at the moment, Kendall. It's a simple blood test to tell us if you're a match. If one of you is, and that would certainly be the best case scenario, then it becomes a bit more complicated for that person."
"And if one of us isn't a match for Miranda, Joe?"
"Then we expand the search. It's crucial to find a match, but that's not all we have to do. In the meantime we must first cure Miranda of the meningitis, so expect her to be on antibiotic treatments for a week. After that we must follow up with chemotherapy for several days, to kill her existing cells, before we can perform the actual transplant."
Kendall moaned. "Oh, Joe. My poor little niece. She has to go through so much and her mommy isn't even here."
Joe's expression became even more somber. "Kendall, I can't tell you how sorry I am. But I promise you we'll do our very best for Bianca's daughter. Miranda's very special to us—to me—you know, and even more so now."
"Then when can you start screening us, Dr. Martin?" Zach asked, but Kendall broke in again, "I want to see Miranda first—can I?"
The doctor rose to his feet. "Yes, of course you may see Miranda first, Kendall, and you too, Mr. Slater, if you like. Both of you come with me to save time, and then I'll send you down to the lab with Greenlee and Ryan for your blood tests."
Before they were allowed to enter Miranda's isolation room, Kendall and Zach were made to wash their hands and put hospital gowns on over their clothes, as well as masks over their faces. Even before she put on the mask, Kendall felt as though she were beginning to suffocate. She could hardly take this all in. Once she stood beside Miranda's cage-like crib, it was even harder to breathe. Kendall couldn't believe that tiny, still, almost foreign form within, with its eyelids taped shut, an IV line taped to its foot, and an oxygen tube in its mouth, struggling for its life in a room full of noisy contraptions, was her happy, playful, outgoing niece Miranda.
Greenlee was in the room too…a wholly different Greenlee than had been present at her and Kendall's last encounter. When she saw Kendall, Greenlee whispered brokenly, "Kendall, I…I'm so sorry. I don't know how this happened. I swear I don't."
We're in this together again, Kendall thought, trying to swallow past the lump in her throat.
"No one is blaming you, Greenlee," Zach said in a low voice.
"Why don't you go join Ryan now, Greenlee," Joe suggested rather briskly. "Wake him up and tell him what I just told you about the blood test. After I let Zach and Kendall visit with Miranda for a moment, I'm sending all of you down to the lab. Then you may come back here and take turns staying with Miranda, if you wish. Or, you may go home and get some rest."
"No! I'm not leaving the hospital," Greenlee said fiercely, following a nurse from the room.
Standing behind them, Joe placed a hand on Kendall's left shoulder and Zach's right. Kindly, he said, "As you can see, we're doing all we possibly can for Miranda now. She's as comfortable as we can make her."
Neither of them replied. The only sound came from the oxygen machine with its continual huff...huff—pause—huff...huff—pause.
Several seconds later, Joe gently squeezed each of their shoulders. "Come on, folks," he said just as gently, "Let's get you down to the lab."
Author's Note: Many thanks to my medical consultant, Dr. V. M. W., for patiently providing answers to my numerous questions about aplastic anemia and meningitis, and for reviewing this story for accuracy.