Chapter Seven

Jaime's recovery was steady, but painstakingly slow. The bullet had basically shredded her lung, which made regaining her strength difficult and at times, agonizingly painful. For a long time, her condition remained precarious.

Steve called Jenna weekly, and soon Jaime was clamoring to see, or at least talk to, her daughter. Steve didn't have the heart to tell her that sometimes Jenna hung up on him, and occasionally she'd refuse to come to the phone at all. Steve knew she was safe and well-cared for, though, so he tried to concentrate his energy on easing his wife back to health.

Three months after the shooting, what was left of Jaime's lung had nearly healed and she was taking walks around the grounds with Steve's arm for support. Everyone agreed she was finally strong enough to make the trip to Rudy's Colorado complex to complete her recovery. Oscar re-joined them for the flight to the hospital in the States, and then the plane went on to deliver him back to DC.

Jaime rested in bed for several days (the flight having taken more out of her than expected), but once she was up and around again, she refused to be denied one minute longer. A phone was finally provided so Jaime could make the one call her heart had been aching for.

"Jenna? Hi, Sweetie - It's Mom!" There was complete silence. "Jenna?"

The sullen voice on the other end barely resembled her daughter. "Mom who?" The line went dead. Jenna had hung up.

Man, I could be a nasty little shit back then! In hindsight, when I think of how badly that call must've hurt my mom, it breaks my heart. I waited, certain she'd call right back, but the phone stayed silent for days...

Jaime couldn't have called back, no matter how badly she wanted to. When she heard the 'click' on the other end, she took a much deeper gasp of air than her lungs were ready for and burst into inconsolable, gut-wrenching sobs. Steve found her just minutes later, gasping and struggling to catch her breath. He hit the emergency call button, wrapped his arms around Jaime and reached behind her for the oxygen mask that was fastened to the wall.

"She...wouldn't...talk to me!" Jaime cried, batting the mask away from her face. "We've lost her, Steve; I've lost her!"

"Sh-h-h, Sweetheart," Steve whispered, finally managing to fit the oxygen mask in place. "We'll get her back; we'll fix this."

Rudy hurried in, responding himself to the emergency call button. He'd known she was going to call her daughter, and Steve had alerted him to the possibility that it might not go well. Rudy came prepared. Within minutes, Jaime had been heavily sedated and began drifting off to sleep. As she was closing her eyes, she spoke to her husband.

"Go see her, Steve."

When I saw my dad come through the front door, what I wanted was to run over and jump into his arms for one of his big, strong bear-hugs. What I actually did: stomped down the hall to my room, slammed the door and locked it.

Steve knew he had to reach her. Calmly and quietly, he removed the door from its hinges. Jenna was at the open window, one foot over the sill.

"Pretty cold out. You might want a jacket," he told her. jenna stepped down from the window and stood, ram-rod straight, with her back to her father.

"Where's Mom?"

"She had to stay and finish out the school year," Steve told her. "Didn't want the kids to have to adjust to another teacher."

"What about this kid?" Jenna whimpered, finally turning toward Steve. Her shoulders shook with many months' worth of uncried tears. "What about me? I need her, too!"

"I know, Baby," he crooned softly, enveloping his daughter in his arms and gently rocking her. "I know, and I'm so sorry."

Steve and Jenna spent the rest of the day talking, laughing and crying, getting to know each other again. That night, after Jenna fell asleep, he called his wife. She made him relate every detail about Jenna and about their day, and then she made a decision. "Take her home, Steve."

"What about you?"

"I want you here, yes, but Jenna needs you there."

About four months after Dad came home, Mom finally joined us. When I saw her, I knew she hadn't been teaching; she was so thin and pale, and she moved just a little more slowly. But I shoved those thoughts away. She was Mom, and she was home. Finally, all three of us were home.