My Lucky Stars (16 page)

Dr. Chasson met her concerned gaze. “You’re going to have to be on strict bed rest. And with your husband gone, I’m thinking that means you need to stay here for a while.”

“But the labor has stopped.”

“But will it stay that way when you’re off the terbutaline?” Dr. Chasson pulled up a chair and sat beside Jane.

Jane looked over at her, trying not to panic and trying not to feel envious of her doctor’s trim figure and stylish outfit.
Swollen ankles have a payoff in the end
, she reminded herself.

“You’re weeks away from the safe zone, and this was a close call.”

“I know,” Jane said. “But Maddie needs me, and—”

“My point exactly,” the doctor said. “You’re a mom, and from my experience, moms don’t rest when they’re at home with their kids.”

“
Kid.
Just one,” Jane reminded her. “And she’s a great little helper. Plus I’ve got family who can pitch in.” But even as she spoke the words, doubt filled her mind. Her mom and dad were out of the country too, serving a mission. Her closest sister, Caroline, was in Arizona, trying out a job possibility with her husband. And her other siblings were scattered miles apart up and down the northern coast of Washington. It had been months since they’d gotten together for a family dinner, and Jane knew they each had busy, full lives with their own spouses and children. It wasn’t likely she’d be able to get any of them to stay with Maddie. And the thought of sending Maddie away—when Peter was already gone—was unbearable.

I’ve got to be home. I’ll work something out.

“You do have a big family,” Dr. Chasson said.

Jane could tell she was wavering. “And you’ve delivered how many of their babies? My sisters know a thing or two about being pregnant. They’ll watch out for me.”

“Hmmm,” Dr. Chasson said again, this time writing something on the papers on her clipboard. “You know what complications can happen if you don’t make it to thirty-six weeks?”

“I know,” Jane said. And she did, probably more than any other first-time pregnant mother. The twins she and Peter had adopted five years ago had been born two months premature with a host of health problems. Mark hadn’t been strong enough to withstand them and his heart condition and had died shortly after his first birthday. Though time had softened the constant sorrow she’d felt after his death, she would never forget the precious little boy he’d been and how he had suffered. She would do just about anything to keep these twins from coming early.
Even sending Maddie away, if I have to.

“I’ll find a way to stay down, or I’ll check myself back into the hospital,” Jane promised. “I’ll find someone to stay with me, and I can direct things from the couch.”

“Lying down is best,” Dr. Chasson said. “And I’ll want to see you every week. You’ll have to call an ambulance if you have any more spotting or cramping. This isn’t something we can mess around with. First time or not, labor can progress quickly, and we might not be able to stop it next time.”

“I understand,” Jane said, trying her best to stay calm.

The bleeps monitoring her babies’ heartbeats remained steady.

“Of course, all this is based on the next twenty-four hours. Your IV is almost finished, and then we’ll wait and see what happens. If there is no activity tonight or tomorrow, I’ll release you. Though I think it’s best if we keep you on preventative medication for the duration of your pregnancy.”

“Thank you.” Jane waited until Dr. Chasson left the room, then she rested her head against the pillow and closed her eyes. But she wasn’t thinking of sleep. She had twenty-four hours to pray for a solution—a minor miracle. She’d had a few miracles before—big ones—like her husband being found in the Iraqi desert after his helicopter was shot down.

Jane had no doubt her Father in Heaven would hear her prayer again this time. The Relief Society on Bainbridge was mighty, but it was also few in numbers, and Jane knew they could only do so much. It would be taxing on them—and her—to have Maddie farmed out for the next eleven weeks. What she needed was someone who could stay at the cottage with her, someone who could take over the responsibilities of the house and yard while caring for Maddie.

Not much that I’m asking for
, she thought with a wry smile. But her parents had taught her that the first step to solving a problem was prayer. It was always the place to start.

Lying there in the quiet room, Jane folded her arms and bowed her head, beginning by thanking her Father in Heaven for the many blessings he’d granted her these past five years.
So many times You’ve answered my prayers. And now I ask again.
In earnest she pled for the safety of her husband, their babies, and Maddie’s care for the next nearly three months. Tears trickled down her face as she felt overwhelmed with the worry that was hers—the things that could go wrong and all that could be taken from her. But on the heels of that fear, Jane felt a sudden peace wash over her, a comfort that was almost tangible. It filled her mind and heart, carrying away her worry.

It had taken a miracle for her to get pregnant with these babies, and Heavenly Father was going to help her get them safely here. He would provide the care she and Maddie needed. She knew it without a doubt.

Nineteen

Tara put the top down on her convertible and cranked up the radio as she drove onto the Golden Gate Bridge. She’d timed her drive right, and the midday traffic wasn’t bad. The breeze blew her hair from her face and the sun sparkled on the water as she looked out at the ocean below. The morning fog had already burned off, revealing an exceptionally beautiful, clear day for April. The sixty-degree weather was a bit cool for having the top down, but she knew things weren’t going to be any better up north. Best to enjoy what sun she had while she had it.

Glancing behind her, she checked to make sure her various boxes and suitcases were still wedged tightly in the backseat. Goosebumps worked their way up her arms beneath the sleeves of her sweater, the pink one Ben had bought for her in Utah last December. She hadn’t worn it since that ill-fated drive through the Rocky Mountains, but she’d reasoned that it was the perfect attire for moving day. After all, it hadn’t cost a fortune, so it wouldn’t matter too much if something happened and it got ruined.

In the two and a half months since she’d quit her job, she’d decided that much of what she owned didn’t really matter to her. She’d sold her condo at a loss, sold all of her furniture to help cover some of that loss, and given much of her clothing to charity. She’d tried to find a Deseret Industries in Southern California, but they didn’t exist there, so she’d had to settle for taking everything to the Goodwill.

The things she had left were her absolute favorites. Three suitcases of shoes in the trunk, several garment bags full of her best pantsuits and skirts, and two large bags and one box of accessories. Her makeup case took up the front seat. What little else she’d decided to keep she’d shipped to Jane’s house on Bainbridge, a little island near Seattle.

Thinking about those packages she’d mailed yesterday, Tara felt the only nervousness she had about this move surface. She felt confident she could get her old job back—after all, she’d been one of their top sellers before she left. She also knew she could find a place to rent. Paying off the mortgage on her condo had taken most of her savings, but she had enough to cover first and last month’s rent and a security deposit, so she was probably good there too. But for those first few days, while she found a place, she’d hoped to stay with her old friend Jane.

It used to be—when Jane had been single—no problem to pop in for a night or two. Jane had always said her door was open, and she’d come through with that offer on many occasions.

But what if that isn’t the case now?
Tara worried. Marriage and children might have changed that scenario.
Might have changed it a lot. I should have called.
But she hadn’t wanted to, hadn’t been willing to risk a rejection that might have changed her mind about coming home, or somewhere as close to home as she’d ever had.

Jane might not welcome her with open arms, but Tara really hoped she’d welcome her just a little. More than a night or two on the couch, she needed a friend, someone who would encourage her and help her figure out what to do next. Jane had always been that kind of friend, and above all, Tara hoped that hadn’t changed.

Twenty

Jessica handed her aunt a glass of lemonade. “What if I skipped the backpack trip and hung out with you next week?”

“Absolutely not,” Jane said. “But nice try.” She took a drink and looked out across the backyard, watching Maddie and her cousin climbing on the play set. “Your last year of girls’ camp is the
best
. Being a youth leader is a lot of fun. You don’t want to miss that. And I know you need this backpack trip to certify.”

“
You
need me.” Jessica poured lemonade into two miniature pink plastic teacups then set them on a matching tray. “Be right back.” She carried the cups, along with a plate of animal crackers, across the yard to the little girls.

Jane smiled as she watched her niece. Jessica would be a great mom someday, and no doubt that day would be here before she knew it. It was hard to believe Jessica was already seventeen. It seemed to Jane like just yesterday she’d been singing karaoke at Jessica’s twelfth birthday party.

“Time flies,” she said as Jessica returned to the patio.

“What?”

“I was just thinking about how much you’ve grown up, how fast time goes—except when your husband is out of the country and you’re five and a half months pregnant.” Jane patted her round tummy. “Then it slows waaaay down.”

Jessica looked at her with concern. “Don’t you think you should lie down and take a nap? I’ll stay out with the little girls. You go inside and sleep for a couple of hours.”

“You sound like Grandma—and that nurse I had at the hospital,” Jane said, laughing as much as her constricted airflow allowed these days. “You’ve got the bossy part down pat.”

“Not bossy enough,” Jessica muttered, sinking into the chair beside her. “If I were, you’d be in
bed
, not out here on the patio. That’s why they call it
bed rest
, you know.”

“I know.” Jane nodded. “But it’s the
rest
part that’s important, and I’m doing that. Besides, I feel so much better when I’m out here. I’ll go crazy if I have to stay indoors the next two months. Out in the yard I can see the garden and the trees—” She paused mid-sentence, eyes glued to a peach tree laden with buds. She hadn’t gotten around to pruning it, and when the fruit began to grow, some of the branches were going to be overburdened. Her gaze shifted to the shed, and her fingers flexed involuntarily as she imagined the pruning shears in her hands.

Jessica noticed. “Don’t even think about doing yard work. I forbid it. I’m going to drive down to the store and buy a new padlock for that shed so you can’t get to your tools.”

“Bossy and
controlling
.” Jane grimaced. “You’ve definitely got the traits to go into nursing.”

“Bet you don’t know any nurses who give pedicures,” Jessica said. “How about finishing those toes?”

“You mean I’ve still got them?” Jane said in mock seriousness. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen my feet.” She raised one leg as high as it would go—not far at all—straining to see her half-painted toenails.

“What’ll it be today?” Jessica held up a sheet of decals. “Hearts? Flowers?”

Jane lowered her leg. “Do you have any stars?” She leaned her head back, a wistful smile on her face as she stared up at the cloudy sky. “I miss them. It’s been so long since I’ve used the telescope.”

“It better be a lot longer,” Jessica said. “Tell me you’re not thinking of going up on the roof anytime soon.”

“Oh, I
think
about it all the time,” Jane said, longing in her voice. “Then I get up off the couch and remember how much effort just a simple movement like that takes.”

“I’ll look at the stars for you next week,” Jessica said. “I should be able to see tons at camp.”

“Lucky.” Jane nodded her agreement. “Are you all packed?”

“I was packed before I came. My carry-on bag had stuff to wear at your house. The suitcase I checked has my backpack in it.”

“I’m so glad you get to go.” Jane knew the past few months had been difficult for Jessica. Her parents were going through a tough time, and this sudden move in the middle of her junior year of high school couldn’t be easy.

“I wish Mom could have come too,” Jessica said. “We always wanted to go to camp together, but . . .”

All of your little brothers came instead
, Jane silently finished Jessica’s thought. For all the effort she and Peter had had to go through to have a baby, it seemed the opposite for Caroline. Though she and Ryan had planned to be
done
having babies, they just kept coming.

For the past couple of days, Jane had the recurring thought that perhaps Caroline was going to come visit as well, though not to camp but to stay with her. Jane had continued her prayers, asking for the help she needed, and she still felt every reassurance that everything would work out. And, of course, it had worked out so far.

First, Jessica had flown in a few days early and had been able to help Jane with Maddie and also with Allison, the niece Jane had committed to babysitting months ago. Allison’s parents were on a once-in-a-lifetime trip to Israel and Egypt and had farmed their children out to various family members for three weeks. It was unfortunate that the second day of their trip had been the day Jane ended up in the hospital with preterm labor.

But even from a distance, Caroline had come to the rescue, changing Jessica’s ticket and flying her out that night. But with the backpack trip only two days away, Jane knew something else had to happen soon, and she felt strongly that the something might be her sister. Along with the reassurance that all would be well, the Spirit was also whispering to her that there was something
she
could do to help someone too—even having to rest as she did.