Murder At The Mikvah (37 page)

 Fifty-one

It was understandable that the hospital staff would have concerns about fires being lit in patients' rooms, but Yehuda was adamant that his wife should witness, albeit unconsciously, the mitzvah of lighting Chanukah candles. With the help of some homemade jelly donuts, a traditional treat served during the holiday, he persuaded hospital administrators to make an exception—just this once—assuring them that he would remain inches from the flames until every single candle had burned down to the quick and extinguished itself.

As with the last three nights, Yehuda had driven to Senecca Hospital in total darkness. Each year, Chanukah fell during the shortest days of the year, and the moon offered little more than a sliver of illumination against the charcoal black sky. There had been potato latkes at dinner and multiple rounds of dreidle spinning, with Yitzi somehow managing to win the lion’s share of chocolate gelt. Eli and David had gotten into their pajamas early. The Chanukah production was less than a week away, and they wanted to be well rested. Rachel, on the other hand, wasn’t quite as eager. Working on the stage sets had consumed most of her time lately; and the labors of all her hard work would soon be coming to fruition. Yehuda couldn’t help but be concerned. He expected that there would be the anticipated “let down” that comes after any big event, but whereas the other children would return to some semblance of normalcy, for Rachel, there would be no normal until Hannah returned home.

Yehuda settled into the recliner and leaned back. The flames danced happily atop their colorful wax candles, moving and burning as if they had personalities and ambitions all their own. But directly behind the silver menorah, the reflection of machines monitoring Hannah kept Yehuda firmly planted in the present.

To Yehuda’s relief, things had been relatively calm on the home front this past week. Fortunately, his mother had a change of heart and returned to the house within a few hours of storming out after their fight. To his surprise, she even rearranged her schedule and extended her visit by three days. Judith had been much nicer to Lauren too, come to think of it. The bottom line was
someone
had knocked some sense into her, and Yehuda suspected it was a certain psychiatrist. His mother had been mentioning the name
Lewis Danzig
a lot lately
.
He laughed out loud as he thought about it.
Did Judith Orenstein, Esquire actually have a romantic interest?
All those years after his parents divorce, Yehuda had only known his mother to date one man. “Uncle Dan” they called him. It lasted only a couple of months, but Uncle Dan made his mother laugh and taught Yehuda and Sunny how to build card houses… Yes, it was refreshing to see his mother happy like that again.

“Yehu…da?”

It was the faraway sound of Hannah’s voice. Yehuda's heart skipped and he sat up. He must have dozed off and been dreaming of her again. He immediately checked the menorah, relieved that the candles were nearly burnt out. How could he have fallen asleep after his promise to the hospital staff? He felt a sense of shame, like the time he had fallen asleep feeding Nehama. Thank God he hadn't dropped her.

“Yehu…da?”

This time he jumped clear out of his chair, his heart racing.

“Hannah?… Oh my God, Hannah!” It
wasn’t
a dream! He ran to her side, staring in disbelief as she blinked her eyes into focus. Tears streamed down his face, blurring his vision as he raised her hand to his mouth and kissed it tenderly. “Baruch Hashem.”
Thank you merciful God.

A nurse peeked in. “I saw you on the monitor, Rabbi Orenstein; is everything all right?” The concern on her face gave way to delight as she realized what she was seeing. She quickly backed out of the room, nearly tripping. “Dr. Martin! Dr. Martin!” she called urgently down the hallway. Within seconds, the doctor flew in.

“She said my name!” Yehuda sputtered, barely containing himself. Part of him still wasn’t convinced any of this was really happening.

“Call Dr. Patel!” the doctor ordered the nurse.

Hannah smiled weakly, a throaty sound came from her, as if she was trying to either cough or laugh.

Dr. Martin was busy checking her vitals. He held a bright light inches from her eyes and she winced in pain. “No!” she said, her voice scratchy. She tried to lift her hand to shield her eyes, but it fell down with a thud. She stared at it, a look of absolute horror on her face.

“Your muscles have atrophied,” Dr. Martin said slowly. “It's best if you don't force any movement just yet.”

She stared at the doctor as if trying to place him. After a few seconds, she let her eyes drift to the equipment surrounding her.

“Wh… Where…?”

“You're in the hospital, darling,” Yehuda said.

“Why?” she asked with some difficulty. Suddenly her lips turned up into a sly smile and her eyes glimmered like her old self.

“Did I… have… another… baby?”

“It is nothing short of a miracle… I have no other explanation,” Dr. Patel told Yehuda as he paced in front of his office desk an hour later. Dr. Patel wore a tuxedo, apparently having been paged in the middle of some black tie event. Finally, there was a light tap on the door and a tech entered with a large folder, which he handed to Dr. Patel. The doctor removed his jacket and tossed it aside. “Let’s see what we have…” he said. He rubbed his hands together eagerly, then slipped three MRI films from the folder, and slapped them against a backlit screen on the wall.

“Hmm…remarkable…just remarkable!”

The doctor made several calculations and kept referencing a large file that was splayed open on his desk. Then, he dropped his pencil and smiled up at Yehuda.

Yehuda’s heart raced through the blur of the next few minutes as Dr. Patel took his pointer to the scans and indicated the frontal and temporal lobes of Hannah’s brain, comparing and contrasting shaded areas of white and gray, all the while interspersing the words “miracle” and “remarkable” in practically every other sentence.

Finally, Dr. Patel spoke the word that Yehuda had once feared he might
never
hear.

Home
.

Once Hannah could hold down solid food, he said, she would be transferred to the rehabilitation unit of the hospital. Dr. Patel was happy to report that if all went well, Hannah could be back home—with the help of a full time aid, of course—within a month.

Chills ran through Yehuda's body.
His Hannah… home!

“What about her memory of the event?” Yehuda asked, trying to stay focused. Two things occurred to him. One, her memories were likely to be traumatic. Two, the police would be very interested in speaking with her.

Dr. Patel sighed. “Many individuals remember nothing.
Ever
. Others recall fragments—small pieces over time.” Just then, the doctor’s phone rang. “Excuse me please, Rabbi… yes, I see. I'll be right up.”

Yehuda stood up, his eyes wide. “Is it Hannah?”

Dr. Patel waved his hands. “No… no. Another patient needs my attention.” He smiled warmly. “It appears I was not meant to eat shrimp cocktail tonight after all.”

 Fifty-two

Between his accelerated speech and the fact that he was standing outside a noisy hospital cafeteria, Lauren could barely make out what Yehuda was saying.

“Hold on a second,” he told her, breathlessly, “I'll go where it's quieter.”

Thirty seconds later and she was able to hear each word perfectly:
Hannah was off of the ventilator… she had spoken… even moved her arm!… The doctors were running some tests now and preparing her for another brain scan. Baruch Hashem, it was nothing short of a miracle!

Yehuda told Lauren he would be staying by Hannah's side throughout the night. Oh, and he had called his mother. She was on her way.

Great.

After Lauren hung up, she went up to her room, flung herself on her bed and burst into tears. She hadn't expected this to be happening so soon. In fact, there was a part of her that thought it would
never
happen. Shameful, yes. But true. All along there had been that lingering, yet unspoken possibility that Hannah wouldn’t pull through. Lauren grabbed a tissue and wiped her eyes. Any
decent
person would be ecstatic hearing the news. Of course, Lauren
had
been thinking about Hannah too, just not about her
recovery
. For some reason her thoughts came at night while she rocked Nehama to sleep, nuzzling against her tiny scalp and inhaling that clean baby scent. She couldn’t get past what had taken place between the two of them at the mikvah. No matter how she tried, Lauren just couldn’t get Hannah's harsh words out of her head.

But despite the animosity between herself and Hannah, Lauren had to admit, she was crazy about Hannah's five children. And she knew they loved her too. Lauren would never confess this to anyone, but it warmed her heart when Yitzi accidentally called her
mommy
. Lauren had always wanted her own kids—maybe that would still happen one day—but in the meantime, in taking care of Rachel, Eli, David, Yitzi and Nehama, she had come to appreciate just how strong her maternal instincts actually were. Sure she had helped Hannah all those months while she was on bed rest, but there was something about being
the
woman of the house… It made her see just what a great mother she could be. Despite what her parents might think, she
was
a real woman, capable of a leading a normal, fulfilling life.

Lauren looked around the room and couldn’t believe how much she had accumulated over the last month. Besides furniture, was there anything left in her apartment? She realized she had been carrying on as though she would be staying here with Yehuda and the kids indefinitely. In a way, it did seem only natural; her apartment lease was up in a couple of months, anyway. The cat, too, had acclimated to their new life. Rosie no longer ran from Nehama's squeals of excitement, and had learned to tactfully avoid getting her tail yanked. Rosie had grown accustomed to the larger living space, the big sunny bay window. It seemed cruel to downsize her again.

Lauren blew her nose. What was she getting herself all worked up about anyway? Hadn't she known it would eventually come to this? Here she was back at the same crossroads: either come clean and confess, or leave in peace. Either avenue had its own set of consequences.

Suddenly, the phone rang, Lauren looked at the caller ID. It was a familiar name, one of the neighbors, but she didn’t answer it.
Good news travels fast
. Soon, the phone would be ringing off the hook. People in the community wanting to know:
was it true what they heard about Hannah? God forbid,
they would say.
God forbid someone would be cruel enough to start such a rumor if it wasn’t
!

Lauren tiptoed into Nehama's room. The baby was on her back, cooing at her
Hey diddle diddle
mobile. After a minute she noticed Lauren and smiled. Did Nehama think Lauren was her
mother
? Hannah hadn't been gone so long, but proportional to Nehama's short life, it probably seemed like forever. Would the baby even
recognize
Hannah?

Lauren wound up the mobile and watched Nehama flail her legs in excitement as the familiar tune started up and the dog, cat and moon shapes began their rounds.

How could she leave this beautiful baby? How could she
never
see any of them again? It was her own damn fault for letting this happen, for getting so attached! What she was facing was nothing new; she had known it all along! She and Hannah could not coexist in this house. It was either one or the other.

Lauren sat in the rocking chair, feeling more drained by the minute. Then it dawned on her:
there was still time.
Not much, but
some
. It might be days before Hannah regained her memories of that night, and was able to articulate them to Yehuda. Lauren could get to Yehuda first! She wouldn’t hold back; she would tell him
everything
. He was going to find out sooner or later anyway, so wouldn’t it be better to come from her?—explained in her own words without Hannah turning it into something
ugly
? Hannah was some matchmaker, but there was one thing she would never understand: love couldn’t always be planned or controlled. Sometimes it simply overtook us.

Lauren felt a shiver go down her spine in nervous anticipation. Did she have the guts to tell Yehuda? But the bigger question was: how would he respond? Would it be like the time Cynthia didn’t have on underwear? Lauren had never seen a man's face get so red! And what Lauren had to tell him was just as titillating! To discover that Lauren had these secret thoughts… a secret
life
! Without a doubt, he would be shocked. Okay,
shocked
, she could handle. But then, what? Would he reject her completely? Or had she misjudged him? After all, he had stuck up for her lately—defended her against Judith, not to mention getting Jonathon off her back! Ever since Yehuda had spoken to him, he hadn't left her a single phone message.
Hmm
, Lauren thought, Had she missed the signs all along? Had she misjudged Yehuda's feelings? A smile forming on her lips.
Perhaps the rabbi would be able to handle the news after all.