Blue Stars (40 page)

For the first time that night, Ellen looked uncertain. She held up a potential nightgown for Lacey to borrow—as if Lacey had worn a nightgown since she was ten!—and they both glanced from it, size two, to Lacey, size twelve.

“Lucky you.” Lacey dropped her towel and scrambled under the covers. “Getting me in all my glory.”

Ellen picked up the wet towel and hung it over a chair. “Oo-rah,” she said.

*   *   *

For a long time they lay together in bed, face-to-face in the dark, talking. Lacey couldn’t believe how sick Ellen had been and she was overcome with guilt about their stupid fight. But she was better now, and would even be allowed back on the ward starting tomorrow. Or the next day, depending on how strict they were. Someone had told her three full days after the fever and vomiting was gone, but someone else had said, just use common sense.

At first, afraid to upset her, Lacey didn’t mention seeing Mike at last week’s training session—with this guy who was Ellen’s other son, the sweet nerdy guy hanging around!—or how great he was doing on the new leg. But strangely, Ellen was pretty chill about having had to miss all that. She wanted to know how he was, she asked all about Lacey’s new boot camps on the ward. She seemed happy to hear that Lacey had agreed to meet with Shelby for lunch sometime next week, but she didn’t bug her or plead or try to convince her that cooperating was essential to the nation’s right to a free press or whatever.

“Are you sleepy?” Lacey asked.

“Not yet.”

“Okay, well … about all that, downstairs. What you probably heard.”

“You don’t have to tell me. Only if you want to.”

Lacey took a deep breath. And then she whispered it all, told everything about Eddie and how he’d gotten mean on her right after the wedding but she told herself it was part of the army thing and he was so stable, and he was kind of okay with Otis … and it didn’t hurt he’d be gone for long stretches. She whispered about the Asshole, about the bad choices, while tears slid down the side of her nose, how probably they had something to do with her shitty dad, as did the drinking—it didn’t take Dr. Freud—and she knew she could be better than this but it was just so hard. Finally, she told Ellen about Jim. What she’d done and why and how she’d stopped but couldn’t really.

“It was cheating but it didn’t
feel
like cheating. And I know about how cheating feels. This was different.”

“Mm.”

Lacey cast her gaze wildly around in the dark, as if she could find evidence to help her prove it. “Sometimes it’s enough for me that he’s out there. Even though we can’t be together,
obviously.
Just to know that I found it once. A good guy who’s crazy about me. I feel all settled and at peace with it. Sometimes. That’s what real love is, right?”

Ellen’s face was only a few inches away on the next pillow but it was impossible to tell what she was thinking. The older woman was studying her, was listening closely.

“It’s okay if you’re judging me. You can say it. I won’t get—” Lacey’s voice wobbled briefly. “I won’t get mad. Aren’t you going to tell me I’m a bad person?”

“No.”

“You’re not?”

“No.”

“Did you sleep through what I just said?”

Ellen laughed softly. “No.”

“Well, Jesus, Ellen.” Lacey rolled on her back and blew out her breath. Wild Turkey, ugh. “Can’t you at least tell me what to do, then? About this big ol’ mess of a life?”

First she felt a small warm hand on her arm, sliding its way into her own hand. Then she heard Ellen say, quietly, “No.”

They lay like that for a long time, hand in hand. Ellen fell asleep; her breathing changed, became deeper, with long pauses between. Lacey watched shadows on the ceiling and thought about all the different things that had brought her here. She sobered up but stayed awake; it felt like being on watch, like she had to protect this small gray-headed woman in bed next to her. Lacey wanted to rescue her too, and as the night passed she sorted through all the ways she could do that, could throw Ellen a lifeline.

In the end, before she drifted off, Lacey came up with two, for starters. First, she would spill it all to the reporter. Give her everything she needed about the conditions of her building, all the gory details, even pictures if she wanted. Why not? Not like Lacey had that much to lose—what was the army to her now, or even to Eddie?—and anyway, if Ellen thought it was important then she must have her reasons. So that was the easy one.

Next up, and it would have to happen quickly—there was a lot she’d have to finesse … but Lacey was going to solve the Jane problem for Ellen. Bring mother and daughter back together, get them talking again, move them past this divide. It wouldn’t be simple, knowing those two. But it was going to happen immediately, that was for sure. Because Jane—who’d showed up at Walter Reed unannounced only a few hours ago, who’d begged Lacey to find her a few moments alone with Mike, who swore her to secrecy—was right this very minute asleep in the sleeping bag she’d brought from Wisconsin, on the floor of Lacey and Eddie’s room, with Lolo and Otis crammed in there too, in Building 18.

28

That morning, arriving at Heaton, Ellen walked briskly through security and held the elevator for an aide wheeling a cart full of cellophane-wrapped baskets holding teddy bears and candy. The two of them exchanged a roll of the eyes, knowing both the inanity of these gifts and that their incoming flood would never stop.

She was impatient—late—it was almost noon. When she woke this morning she was startled and annoyed to see that it was ten o’clock. How late had she and Lacey stayed up talking? And where was Lacey now? No sign of her; she must have slipped out early. Ellen rushed through a shower, dressed, and sat on the edge of her for-once unmade bed to make several phone calls, to the airline and taxi services and so on. Then she spoke to a woman at an agency called Children and Family First, out near the intersection of Wisconsin 151 and 94, by the big office park, and made an appointment for twelve-thirty on Friday.

Two nights ago, in the aftermath of that terrible flu, Ellen had hit on the solution. They had dismissed adoption without really considering it, she had realized in a rush. But it was perfect for Jane! It fit right into her devotion to service and helping others!

My fault,
Ellen thought, waiting for the slow ding of each elevator floor on its way to floor five. She had let the pain of the idea cloud her better judgment. Yes, it would be hard on Jane. But raising a baby would be harder.

Now if she could only get Jane on the phone. She’d left several messages but no response of course. Still, that was expected. Michael would never have to know, and what a relief for Jane, not having to put this on him. And she’d be free, Ellen thought, slightly bouncing up onto her toes. Free to go on to college and a career … fine, even free to have a relationship with Michael, if that’s what they both wanted! She’d never said it was his baby, and so giving it up didn’t have to mean it would be a secret from him. It could be the way forward. Okay, so Jane being Jane it would mean a trickily elegant convincing process with the eventual goal that she, Jane, be the one to come up with the idea. Fine. None of that mattered if it would save her daughter’s future.

Well, maybe it was better that Jane hadn’t picked up the phone. (When did Jane ever pick up her phone?)
Ding
. The elevator opened onto five and Ellen turned automatically toward Ward 57. This was a conversation best had in person, and she would be home the day after tomorrow, in any case. Jane would just have to be surprised by her arrival.

The hard part, Ellen thought, waving to Dr. Pritzker, would be telling Michael she needed to go home for a few days. He should be all right with that, though. He’d survived with her being gone for the flu; he’d probably jump at the chance for more. But for now, oh God, she couldn’t wait to see him on that new leg!

She was caught off guard by how crowded Michael’s room was. There was Lacey, there was Wes, and most of all—when she could finally take it in—there was Michael, with his sweatpants pulled up on one side to reveal the metal tubes and black cord disappearing into a white sock and brand-new sneaker. They were all talking rapidly over one another, so they didn’t notice Ellen at first when she came in. One at a time they fell silent and she realized that although Michael was standing upright, there was a figure in his bed.

Jane.

Propped up against the raised back of the bed, hair splayed against the messy sheets, knees bent and skirt falling up her bare thighs, barefoot. And in the middle of all that, at the center of Jane and of the hospital bed and of the entire room it seemed, was the high curve of her belly. A T-shirt stretched thinly over it, and her round navel strained even against that, a miniecho of the pregnancy.

Ellen did as good a job as she could manage, to cover her shock and surprise. She went first to her daughter and gave her a dry kiss on the forehead. Then she went to Michael and gave him a long hug. Then, she shot a dirty look in the general direction of Wesley and Lacey.

“Well,” she said. “I can’t tell if this is a party I’m late to, or one to which I haven’t been invited.” Her chair, the one she’d sat on for months while they watched TV, was heaped with coats and bags.

Jane opened her mouth but Lacey hurriedly said, “Give her the show, Mike. The full demonstration.”

“You mean my robo-leg? My next-gen Terminator parts? Your all’s tax dollars bought it.” He beckoned her close. Ellen bent down to admire the brushed blue-and-gray fiberglass shell and watch as Mike tugged up the black carbon fiber leg socket they’d fit to his exact specifications. She listened to him explain how the knee microprocessor worked, instantly converting reads and settings to adjust the swing of the knee joint. At his urging, she reached into his cotton sock to touch the rubber foot-shaped sock he pulled on over the metal blade. Each part of this she’d known about for months, had taken notes on, had a stack of photocopies about. But Ellen, rejoicing in Mike’s energy and enthusiasm, let him explain it all, and asked lots of questions to which she knew the answers.

It bought her time too. But the fact of Jane, the presence of Jane, burned behind her. Finally, she couldn’t wait any longer.

“Honey, why didn’t you tell me you were coming? I would have picked you up.”

“He knows, Mom. About the baby. So you can drop the whole pretend-everything’s-okay act.”

“It would be hard
not
to know at this point, now that you’re here. So why don’t we take a moment to talk about how we can—”

“No. Uh-uh. First, how about you tell Mike that you basically lied to him, and to me, so you could hide me away and not even let the two of us
deal
with this—”

“Jane!” This was Lacey. “You promised.”

“Lacey, maybe it would be best if you could give us a little time alone, as family.”

“She’s here because
she’s
the only one being honest! If it weren’t for her, Mike would still be thinking that I, like, didn’t even care about him anymore. Because you twisted it all around, Mom! You never even gave him a chance to make his own decision.”

Michael was clicking a small remote that caused a whirr-buzz in the ankle area of his C-leg. Toggling between two modes;
bzzz
click,
bzzz
click.

“We don’t need the whole ward to hear all this,” Wesley mumbled. “Drama.”

“Oh, it’s nothing out of the ordinary,” Ellen said. She scooped the coats off her chair and dumped them on the radiator. “You should have been here the time a National Guard soldier two rooms over mixed up the dates and had both his girlfriends visit at the same time.”

Mike snorted, and that one sound filled her with hope and energy. She sat down and tried to look calmly at Jane. “So why don’t you tell me what the two of you have decided. About this baby.”

Everyone began talking at once. It was only Mike and Jane’s business; it was the whole family’s business. Ellen should butt out; Ellen had every right to know what the deal was. They should give this some time; they should air it all out now.

“Are the two of you…” Ellen managed to say. “Together?”

Jane made a whooshing noise, as if this had nothing to do with anything. Michael looked uneasily from Jane to Ellen to the remote in his hand.

“Obviously, I’m going to do what’s right,” he said, in a low voice. And then, directly to Ellen. “I should’ve told you. I’m sorry.” He flashed a grimace at Wes.

Before she could respond, Jane erupted. “
You’re
sorry? What about her telling me that you hated me!”

“I did
not
do that!”

“You made me leave by saying he’d be better off without me around. That he’d never want me or this baby in his life.” Tears streamed down both sides of Jane’s plump cheeks.

“What I—what I wanted was for you both to have some time to—”

“Lacey says all you ever did here was scheme up ways to make sure he never knew about me being pregnant. Like you wanted to spare him the fucked-up life that I have.”

“It was me. My idea.” This was Lacey. “So just leave off on your mom, all right? There’s no way he could’ve handled that news a month ago. Mike knows it. Right?” They all stared at Lacey except Mike, who watched his new foot raise one inch and tap, raise and tap. “It’s not like it’s been a picnic in this room, you know. You should have seen what he put your mom through and you’d be glad you weren’t around!”

Mike’s gaze flew up to Ellen and she saw a flash of confusion.
Really?
“Careful,” she said, as he wobbled.

“Your idea?” Jane said softly. “But you—I thought you were on my side.”

“There’s no
sides,
” Lacey cried in exasperation. “I never said I had any magic answers, either.”

“But you felt entitled to get in my business,” Jane said, heating up again. “In our business—” she gestured at Mike. “And make decisions for people you don’t even know.”

“That’s enough, Jane,” Ellen said.

“Yeah, can we all just—” Wesley made a tamping-down motion with both hands.