Eyes (27 page)

CHAPTER 32

Doug pulled the tape up and fastened it to the other side of the diaper. Then he picked up the life-size, rubber baby doll and handed it to Jill's matronly instructor, “Okay, ma'am. I'm ready.”

“Very good!” The instructor smiled. “And very fast, too. Have you done this before?”

“No, ma'am. I've never had the pleasure. But it's a lot easier than roping steers.”

The instructor smiled, but she had the last word. “That may be true. However, we'll wait until you actually have something
in
that diaper, and then we'll see how you feel about it.”

The whole class cracked up, including Doug. Jill laughed the hardest of all. She'd never had so much fun in class before, and she knew it was because Doug was there.

The instructor glanced at her watch. “It's time for our tour. Follow me and I'll show you around the maternity wing.”

Doug took Jill's arm as they rode up in the elevator. After they got off at the fifth floor, the instructor led them past the labor rooms and Jill was surprised at how beautifully they were decorated. The rooms were private, with only one bed, and each was furnished with a full-size sofa, a table with two comfortable chairs, and a console television set.

The instructor led them into a vacant labor room, and Doug raised his eyebrows. “This is nicer than my apartment. I thought it would look like a hospital room.”

“That's exactly what we
don't
want.” The instructor smiled at him. “We find our mothers-to-be are much more comfortable in a setting that looks like home.”

One young wife looked very nervous, and she gripped her husband's hand tightly. “How long will I be here?”

“That's a good question. I'm afraid I can't give you a definite answer.” The instructor smiled at her kindly. “It varies with each woman. First babies usually take a while. That's why we want the labor rooms to be as attractive as possible.”

Another young woman spoke up. “My doctor told me to stay home until the contractions were twenty minutes apart. He said I'd spend less time in the hospital if I didn't come in too early.”

“That's usually good advice, especially if you live close to the hospital. But if you're anxious about getting here on time, you should feel free to come in any time after labor has started.”

“But then you're stuck here.” An older woman, who was having her first child, spoke up. “When you come in, you have to stay in bed . . . don't you?”

The instructor shook her head. “Not anymore. Things have changed in the past few years. When you arrive, a doctor will check to see how far your labor has progressed. If you're in the early stages, you have quite a few options. You can go down to the courtyard to walk around, talk to the other couples in the reception area, or play cards in the game room. You're also welcome to stay here and watch television or read, but we encourage you to stay on your feet for as long as you can. It speeds up the process.”

A tour of one of the delivery rooms was next, and Jill noticed that several of her classmates looked visibly nervous.

“You won't be in here for long.” The instructor smiled at them. “You won't be brought in until you're ready to give birth, and the average delivery takes less than fifteen minutes.”

“Where do we go when we get out of here?” The older woman was curious.

“You'll be taken to a regular room on this floor, and your baby will be carried to the nursery. Follow me. I'll show you.”

The regular room was nice, too, and Jill noticed a bassinet by the bed. “That's for mothers who choose rooming in?”

“That's right.” The instructor nodded.

“I wanted to room-in with my baby.” One of the young women looked very disappointed. “But when I checked with our insurance company, they said they'd pay for only one night. It seemed kind of silly to choose rooming-in when the baby and I have to leave in the morning.”

The instructor nodded. “Most insurance companies pay for only one night in the hospital. But our doctors are convinced that mothers and babies are much healthier and have fewer medical problems if they stay for two full nights.”

“But that extra night is expensive, isn't it?” One of the husbands looked worried.

“Not at all. You'll have to fill out a questionnaire every month for the first year, but it won't cost you a penny. We're fighting to change the insurance coverage. We're hoping our statistics will convince them that allowing two nights in the hospital will save them money in the long run.”

The young woman who'd looked so disappointed only moments before was smiling now. “Is it too late to change my mind and choose rooming-in?”

“It's not too late.” The instructor smiled back at her. Then she motioned for them to follow and headed down the hallway. “And now . . . the place you've been waiting for all night. Let's take a quick peek at the nursery.”

The nursery was at the end of the corridor, behind a huge plate-glass window. When they arrived, one nurse was seated in a rocking chair, feeding a newborn infant. Jill watched her for a moment and then her eyes traveled to the rows of bassinets. Two baby boys, wrapped in blue receiving blankets, were sleeping peacefully. A little girl, wrapped in a pink blanket, was yawning in preparation for waking up, and the baby boy in the next bassinet was trying to eat his fist.

Jill smiled as she watched the baby boy try to capture his fist with his mouth. He wasn't having much luck, and his mouth opened in a wail. Almost immediately, another nurse walked over to pick him up. She was smiling as she held him up to her shoulder and patted him softly.

“I never knew they'd be so little.” Doug turned to Jill in amazement. “Look at the one she's holding. I've caught bigger trout that that.”

Jill laughed and nodded. “They really are tiny, aren't they? It makes you wonder how something that small can be that perfect.”

Everyone was silent, staring at the babies for a long moment. Jill became lost in her private thoughts, her innermost worries. Her doctor had told her that her pregnancy was normal, that the baby appeared to be healthy and thriving. But what if he had made a mistake and something was terribly wrong?

Doug seemed to know what she was thinking because he reached out to take her hand. “Don't worry, Jill. Your baby will be perfect, too.”

“It's time to go back to the classroom.” The instructor motioned to them. “Since tonight is our last meeting, we're having cake and punch.”

With the other members of the class, Jill and Doug followed the instructor down the corridor. When they got back to the classroom, Doug was still holding her hand and Jill pulled away reluctantly.

“Hi, Jill.” A couple in the class came up to them. The woman smiled at Doug and shook his hand. “I'm so glad you could make it tonight, Mr. Bradley. I'm Jean Olsen, and this is my husband, Fred. It's a real pleasure to see you're just as excited about the baby as Jill is.”

Jill opened her mouth to explain that Doug wasn't her husband, but he was already shaking the woman's hand. “I'm glad to meet you, but I'm not Jill's husband. He couldn't be here tonight. I'm standing in for him.”

“Oh, I see.” Jean looked very flustered. “You seem to care about each other so much. I guess I just . . . Well . . . it's really nice of you to come with Jill.”

“Thank you. It's been a real education for . . .” Doug stopped and reached for his pager. He glanced at the number displayed on the screen, then began to frown.

“Is it an emergency?” When Doug nodded, Jill's heartbeat quickened. The last time his beeper had gone off, the serial killer had struck again. She reached in her purse for her cell phone and handed it to him. “Here, Doug. You can step out in the hall if you want privacy.”

“Thanks.” Doug turned to Jean and Fred. “I'm sorry, but I've got to call in. It was nice meeting both of you.”

After he had left, Jean pulled Jill to the side of the room. “Your friend is certainly handsome! What does he do?”

“He's a detective.” Jill smiled. “We've worked together a lot in the past. Doug's a good friend, and he's my contact with the police department.”

Jean nodded. “That's right. I'd forgotten that you were with the DA's office. Is he married?”

“No. He's single.”

“Good!” Jean looked delighted. “Do you think he'd like to meet a friend of mine? She's single. She wants to get married, but she just hasn't found the right man. If I tell you all about her, will you give him her number?”

“Well . . . uh . . . sure. I can do that.”

Jill's heart sank as Jean told her all about her beautiful, talented, and successful friend. She had to admit that the woman sounded perfect for Doug.

“Well? What do you think?”

Jean looked anxious, and Jill nodded. “You're right. They sound perfect for each other.”

“Then you'll give him her number?” Jill nodded again, and Jean scribbled a telephone number on a business card. “Her work number's on the front of the card, and I wrote her home phone on the back. Wouldn't it be wonderful if we were the ones to get them together?”

“Yes, I guess it would.”

Jill tucked the card in the outside pocket of her purse, but she was frowning as Jean went off to rejoin her husband. She didn't like playing matchmaker. It was pushy and almost rude to assume that they could pick out the right woman for Doug. They would be meddling in his private life. He might resent it. And if she gave Doug the card, she might very well lose the best friend she had!

There was a wastebasket by the instructor's desk. Jill's fingers went to the card. She had half a notion to drop it in the trash and never mention it to Doug. He'd never know. His chances of running into Jean or Fred again were very slight. She could do it now, while no one was looking, and pretend that Jean had never given it to her.

“Jill?” There was a hand on her arm, and Jill whirled around guiltily. It was Doug. He looked grim and sorry and horribly upset.

“What's wrong?” Jill's heart started to pound, and she leaned close so the others couldn't hear her. Doug looked very strange, as if he were fighting back tears. “Is it the serial killer?”

He nodded and took her arm, guiding her to the door. “We have to leave.”

“Of course. You have to go to the crime scene.” Jill hurried down the hallway with him, and they went out the main door. It wasn't raining any longer; it had turned into a beautiful night. “I'll go with you, Doug. I really don't mind, and maybe I can help. When you get enough extra officers on the scene, someone can drive me home.”

“No, Jill. You can't come with me.”

Doug's voice was shaking, and Jill stopped at the edge of the curb to stare at him. “What's the matter? Did you get in trouble for taking me to the last crime scene?”

“No, Jill. That's not it.”

His voice was soft, and his arms were trembling as he stepped close to hug her. He held her for a long moment, and Jill began to feel very uneasy. Doug seemed to be trying to comfort her, and she wasn't sure why.

“Jill, honey . . . let's go to the car.” Doug hugged her once more, then took her arm. “I'm afraid there's something I have to tell you.”

* * *

She didn't utter a word on the drive home, and Doug glanced at her anxiously in the lights from the dashboard. She was staring straight ahead, lost in a place her shocked mind had provided, a refuge without pain or tears or awareness. Doug was silent, too. He didn't want to disturb her, to remind her of the present and the horrible event that had happened. It was best to let her escape for as long as she could so she might gather her strength for the ordeal ahead.

Doug's mind was racing as he drove silently to her house. Would Jill turn to him, now that Neil was dead? Or was it wrong to even hope that might happen, at least this soon after her husband's murder? He toyed with these questions all the way to her house, and when he pulled into the driveway, he'd made up his mind. Jill would need time to get over her loss. It would be unfair to press her or try to influence her when she was this vulnerable. He'd be her good friend, nothing more, until she came to him . . . if she did.

“Jill? We're here.” He spoke very softly so he wouldn't startle her.

“Yes. Thank you, Doug.” Jill blinked, and she seemed to become aware of her surroundings. Then she looked frightened. “Do you have to leave right away?”

“No. I won't go until someone comes to stay with you. Don't worry, Jill. I won't leave you alone.”

When Doug took Jill's keys and started to unlock the door, someone opened it from the inside. She was an attractive young woman with glasses and dark blond hair, and Jill rushed straight into her arms. Doug knew immediately it was Connie, but he was puzzled because she looked familiar. He had the feeling he'd seen her somewhere before, though perhaps that was because Jill had described her so accurately.

“Jill!” Connie looked completely baffled. “What's wrong?”

“He . . . He . . . Oh, it's awful!”

Connie turned to him, puzzled, and Doug began to explain. “I'm Doug Lake. We just got word that Jill's husband is dead.”

“Oh, my God!” Connie was clearly shocked, but she recovered quickly and then became just as efficient as Jill had told him she was. “Thank you for bringing her home. Would you help me get her to the couch?”

It didn't take long to get Jill settled with a pillow and a blanket. Connie murmured comforting words while she stroked her forehead. When Jill seemed to fall into a light sleep, Connie stood up and led Doug over to a chair on the opposite side of the room. “Tell me what happened. Was it a traffic accident?”