The Clone's Mother (32 page)

Chapter 51

Filled with joy, Jim strutted onto the maternity floor. With hands relaxed in his Levi’s pockets and an added bounce in his step, he whistled “Zip-a-Dee-Doo-Dah,” and nodded to everyone he passed. After going home for a quick shower and change, he’d put on his newest tie, a gift from Joe. A tall, skinny, yellow stork stretched from knot to tip, carrying a blue bundle with a chubby foot sticking out.

He stopped at the nurses’ station to chat with Dr. Chen. She sat in an office chair working at a computer.

“Hey Brenda,” he said to her. “Think I’ll be able to take her home later today?”

“We’ll see how she feels after dinner. I saw her about thirty minutes ago. With some rest and Tylenol, she should be as good as new in no time.” She kept mouse-clicking and typing. Jim could tell she was having a hard time with the new computer system.

Then Jackie rolled down the hall toward him.

“Hi. I didn’t expect to see you. Did you take a cab? When did you get here?” he asked.

“I’m leaving. Please take me home.”

“I just got here. If you’ll wait a while, I can take you later.” He leaned on the countertop over Dr. Chen’s workspace. “I’m going to say good morning to Kate’s doctor then I’m going to spend some time with Kate and Howard.”

Jackie kept rolling down the hallway.

“What’s the rush?”

She didn’t answer. Just wheeled away and disappeared around the corner.

Dr. Chen finally looked up from the screen with an exasperated look on her face.

“I hate these new computers. Why couldn’t we have just kept the old way?”

“Can I help with something? I’ve had pretty good luck with them so far.”

“Do you know how to save your notes? Every time I try, it erases everything I just wrote.”

“I did that too the first couple of times. I’ll show you what I found.”

Jim went around the counter and pointed to a button on the screen for her to click.

“Hi, Dr. Chen. Mr. Mackenzie?”

Jim looked up. A woman in scrubs stood smiling at him.

“Hello,” Mack said.

“You’re Kate Mackenzie’s husband? I’m her nurse today.”

“Jim Mackenzie,” he said, putting out his hand to shake hers.

“Kate is doing well this morning. She’s resting for a bit while the baby is in the nursery. And she already had a visitor this morning. A woman in a wheelchair?”

“Yes, I saw her. That was my sister.”

“Well, whenever you’re ready, I can go over the discharge teaching with you.” She gave a big smile, waving a packet of papers like a fan.

“Sure thing. Probably later this afternoon will be good. Give Kate a little more time to rest first.”

He turned back to the computer. “There you go,” he said pointing to the screen that had finally loaded. He moved the mouse over the correct button to save. “Click there when you’re ready. And now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go see my beautiful wife.”

He walked out from behind the counter. The nurse remained watching him as he came around.

“Is there something else?” he asked.

“I have paperwork for you. Do you want it now, so you can look at it before I go over stuff with you? I need to show you how to bathe the baby, and take care of his cord, and how to take his temperature. Stuff like that. I want to leave plenty of time before discharge.”

Dr. Chen said, “Liz, I bet Kate already knows how to take an infant temp. And
Mr.
Mackenzie here is
Dr.
Mackenzie. I bet it won’t take more than five minutes. Thanks for your help, Jim. I think I get it now.”

“No problem.” Jim put his hands back in his pockets and sauntered toward Kate’s room. A medical student whom Jim had met a couple of weeks before stopped him outside of Kate’s door.

“Congratulations, Dr. Mackenzie,” he said. “I heard you have a new arrival.”

“Thanks,” Jim said as he took the hand extended to him. He shook it. “Did you see the little fellow? Well, not so little. Nine pounds, three ounces.”

“No kidding,” the student said. “A whopper. Well, congrats again.”

And he left Jim to finally go see his wife.

“Knock, knock,” Jim said as he pushed open the heavy door. “Good morning, Bright—”

Lying flat on her back in the middle of the tile, staring at the ceiling with blank eyes, was Kate.

Jim dove beside her. Her color was dark, her chest not moving. Before the door closed all the way, he yelled, “Code Blue, room Twelve. I’ve got a Code Blue in here!”

He opened her airway and started mouth-to-mouth. Brenda Chen flew in the door behind him.

“My God, what happened?” she shrieked as she dropped next to Jim. She checked for a pulse while Jim kept breathing for Kate.

Someone else burst in and ran to the wall unit and hit the Code button. Then the crash cart rolled in and several more personnel.

Somebody with a laryngoscope and an endotracheal tube squeezed in beside Jim and said, “I’m ready.”

Jim moved aside and watched while the guy looked inside Kate’s throat with the scope and slipped the airway into place. A nurse held an Ambu-bag inches away, waiting to pop it on the end of the ET tube. As soon as it was in, she started bagging.

Someone stuck leads to Kate’s chest and turned the EKG on. She had a rhythm, but it was too slow. People were shouting and bustling and bumping. Jim couldn’t tell what anyone said. Couldn’t think straight. Couldn’t believe this was happening.

The Code team from ICU slammed through the door. “What happened? What’s the history here? Talk to me, people.” The guy heading up the team was shouting over the noise of the chaos.

No one seemed to know.

“I…I found her,” Jim stammered out. “I don’t know. She was down when I found her.”

A nurse in blue scrubs pushed in front of Jim. He moved out of the way. She glided an IV catheter into Kate’s vein on the arm that wasn’t already covered in blood. Another nurse handed over syringes to the IV nurse, who started pushing in the meds after the resident running the code called out what to give.

Blood? Why was Kate bleeding? It was everywhere. Pouring out of her old IV site. That’s what it was. Her IV had been torn out. But why? And why was she here on the floor coding?

“Push another amp of epi,” yelled the resident in charge. He added something about sodium bicarb then ordered a long list of blood work. He asked for an arterial blood gas, then told the one doing the drugs to start a dopamine drip.

Supplies were flying everywhere. People packed the room, some scuffling at Kate’s side trying to stick needles in her or check vitals or listen to her chest, some watching from the periphery.

“Her heart rate is rising,” one nurse called out.

“Dopamine going,” said another.

“Any respiratory effort?” the resident asked.

The nurse bagging her shook her head no.

“No deep pain response. No reflexes. Pupils are sluggish but equal,” another person reported.

A silent sob shook Jim when he heard her pupils weren’t fixed and dilated. Maybe he’d found her in time. He couldn’t help but curse himself for not getting to her sooner. If only he hadn’t spent so much time at the desk. Or talking to people, talking to—

Jackie.
She’d just come from Kate’s room. And in a hurry. What had she done?

Jim dashed out of the room and hurried down the hall in the direction Jackie had gone—toward the newborn nursery.

He put together his thoughts as he rushed down the hall. All the crazy ideas came into focus and he broke into a dead run. He suddenly understood things he’d never considered before.

He skated around the corner into the nursery and found Jackie, sitting beside Howard’s bassinet.

“Jackie,” Jim cried out.

Her head snapped up, her eyes wide. She pulled something from Howard’s bed. She slipped her hand into her pocket and moved her face into a smile.

“Jim,” she said, the fear he’d seen on her face seconds before completely hidden.

“What have you done?” Jim yelled as he raced to his son’s bedside.

“I’m just visiting. I’ll take you up on that ride later after all.” She was so calm. So calculating.

“Give me what’s in your pocket,” Jim demanded.

“I don’t have anything. Why are you yelling? What do you want? Here,” she reached in and pulled out a ring of keys. “You want my keys?”

Jim didn’t believe it. He couldn’t. She’d left Kate dying on the floor. He knew it. And maybe even put her there.

He had no time to coddle her, or protect her. He jumped on her and grabbed her wrists. She fought back, grunting as they wrestled. He jammed a hand into her pocket and snatched out what she’d hidden.

He pulled out a syringe. A full syringe. Whatever it was, she hadn’t yet pushed it into Howard.

“What is it?” Jim yelled. “Tell me what it is, damn it!” He shook her, snapping her head back and forth. “Tell me what it is!”

Nurses ran in from other areas of the nursery. One grabbed the phone and yelled for
Security, stat
! Two tried to calm Jim down, speaking to him like he was a lunatic. He let go of Jackie and backed a step away. Two babies woke up and cried, disturbed by the outburst.

“Jackie, what is it?” He shook the syringe at her. “What did you do to Kate? Did you inject her with this?”

Jackie watched him, not a trace of emotion on her face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She turned her chair and wheeled away toward the door. Two men from Security hurried into the room and looked around for the trouble.

Jim jumped back on her. The guards jumped on him. They grabbed and pulled, prying the syringe out of his grasp. He struggled until he got his other hand into her pocket and wrapped around something.

He pulled it out, in spite of the men grabbing at him. When he backed away to read the label, the security guards loosened their grips. He focused on the vial.

He said, “Keep her here. I don’t care how, don’t let her go. And keep her away from my son!” And he flew away, back to Kate’s room, with the vial in his hand.

When he entered, he found they’d moved Kate onto a gurney. Respiratory had rolled in a ventilator and they were in the process of hooking her up. She still wasn’t breathing.

“How is she?” he stammered.

“Heart rate stabilizing,” the resident said. “We’re going to get her to ICU here pretty soon. Have any ideas what happened?”

Jim held up the vial. “I’m afraid I do.” He swallowed hard. Could Jackie have really done what he suspected? He braced himself to say it aloud. “I think she was injected with this.”

The resident took the vial from his hand and read the label.

“Pavulon? What? A mix-up with a B12 shot or something? Why would there be Pavulon on L&D anyway?”

Jim closed his eyes. He tried not to be sick. “I think it was intentional. To…hurt her.”

“Hurt? You mean kill?”

Jim tried to nod. He had to sit. The floor beneath his feet was tilting.

The resident turned back to his team and starting giving more orders, calling for more lab tests, additional meds. Jim held onto the edge of the chair, shaking so hard his teeth chattered.

As Kate was rolled out of the room, the resident came back to Jim before following the entourage out.

“You’d better stick around. The cops will want to talk to you.”

Jim tried to nod through the trembling. The fellow didn’t need to worry. Jim wasn’t going anywhere. Even if he had wanted to.

Epilogue

Jim stood alongside Kate as she lay on the gurney, still and silent. With a white-knuckled grip, he clung to the side rail, trying to keep on his feet. His knees were rubber. It took all his strength to stay upright.

But he wasn’t leaving. He couldn’t bring himself to move from her side. And he wouldn’t let himself surrender to the torrent of emotion.

Not yet.

Later. Another time he’d let himself collapse and feel the overwhelming pain and grief.

Her eyes weren’t closed all the way. The lids had slipped up and no one had noticed. Her sightless eyes were staring out from beneath the lashes. Jim reached over and gently, lovingly closed them.

Touching her like that whirled up the feelings in his gut. How could he have been so stupid, so blind? How could he have trusted Jackie so completely and let her do this to his cherished Kate?

He worked to keep the pain down. It threatened to swell up and choke him. His chest ached from all the tumult pressing to get out and his constant restraint trying to fight it back inside.

While he stood there, trying to force control over his heartbreak, he heard the soft click of heels walk up behind him. He sucked in a deep breath, readying himself to face someone without shattering into broken shards of pain right there in front of them.

A hand settled on his shoulder, patient and knowing, letting him take the time he needed to compose himself and turn around. He finally turned, hoping his knees would support him, hoping his tenuous hold on self-possession wouldn’t break loose.

“How you doing?” the kind voice said. Jim opened his eyes. It was Brenda Chen.

Jim tightened his lips into a joyless smile. They trembled. His eyes brimmed with tears.

She took a silent moment to squeeze his arm, to offer a compassionate gaze. To just be with him and let him know he wasn’t alone, wouldn’t have to do this all on his own.

“The labs are in. You were right,” she finally said.

“Pavulon?”

“Yes, levels sky high.”

He rubbed his face, trying to think, to process what this meant. “What’s the half-life, do you know?” he asked.

“Ninety to one-hundred forty minutes.”

That opened Jim’s eyes wider.

“I know,” Brenda said. “She should have come out of it by now.”

“When’s the MRI scheduled?”

“They should be up to get her soon.”

Jim turned back to the bed, steadying himself again with the railing.

“I’m afraid to test her reflexes,” he said. “I want to see if she’s coming out, but I’m afraid to know if she isn’t.”

Brenda stood by him, saying nothing, because there was nothing to say.

“Would you order some eye ointment for her?” he asked. “I don’t think anyone took care of that yet and her lids won’t stay shut.”

“A nurse was on the phone to Pharmacy about that a few minutes ago. But I’ll check and make sure it’s done.”

“Thanks.”

Jim struggled but couldn’t let go of the side rail. He was too afraid to hold her hand, too petrified he wouldn’t feel anything. What if he’d waited too long to find her? What if she’d been without oxygen too long?

Brenda pointed and said, “Look.”

Jim opened his eyes. The fingertips of Kate’s right hand were twitching. He forgot the railing and reached out, snatching up her hand in his own. Though it was too early to truly know her condition, he couldn’t help but be swept over with relief to see the movement.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes and see you two then.” Brenda pushed past the curtain and left them alone.

Relief spread through him, hope grew. Tears of joy slipped down his cheek. Maybe she’d be okay. Maybe he wouldn’t lose his Bright Eyes.

He clutched her hand, feeling the twitch in her fingertips creep into her palm. He watched her chest for any sign that she was fighting the ventilator, making her own respiratory effort.

Swish-pah, swish-pah.
The air was forced in, lifting the chest, then it rushed out, between mechanical ventilations.
Swish-pah, swish-pah.
The machine delivered a breath every four seconds, fifteen times per minute.

Air in, air out.

Swish-pah, swish-pah.

Tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick.

A clock clicking.

Sounds started to swell, to come into focus. There were voices, hard to hear but growing louder. Quiet speaking voices, hushed and not hurried.

It was dark. But getting lighter.

Someone was holding my hand. The heat was growing where our skin touched.

I needed to swallow. I felt like I might gag. My throat was sore. Something was there.
What on earth is that?

I squeezed my eyes shut. They burned. They felt so dry.

Swish-pah, swish-pah
. A ventilator? Where was I? The vent was pushing
my
chest.

Oh, my God! Was I on a ventilator? What was I doing on a vent?

I struggled to lift my heavy eyelids. If I raised my eyebrows all the way to my hairline, I could get my eyes open enough to see a crack of light.

And Mack. Mack was the one holding my hand. I squeezed as hard as I could, using every bit of concentration. I pressed with enough energy to shatter a stone. And I think all that work gave just enough of a twinge that Mack felt it and looked right at me.

His gorgeous indigo eyes. They glistened with tears. He looked at me like he hadn’t seen me in centuries. Like he thought he’d never see me again.

Whoa. He looked at me like he thought I’d died. Now I remembered. I thought I’d died too. It all came back. My eyes started crying too.

Howard?
I tried to say. I couldn’t talk with that tube through my larynx. So I tried to mouth his name.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he crooned, comforting himself as much as me. “You’re okay now. Okay.”

I shook my head, as much as I could. I tried to mouth
Howard
again, but the tube was in the way. I looked sideways with my eyes, to signal I was talking about our baby down the hallway.

“You’re safe now. You’re going to be okay. And Howard’s fine, he’s fine. She didn’t hurt him.”

The relief was huge. That alone let me take a breath deeper than I could before.

With that little bit of communication, Mack dropped his forehead onto the side rail, like a guy who’d thought his wife was dead and just found out she wasn’t. It took the effort of lifting a mountain, but I got my hand to move to his head and I touched him while he stayed there a bit and collected himself.

He lifted his head and gave me the most pitiful smile I’d ever seen. But his eyes were cleared of the deep pain and fear.

He kissed my forehead, then ran out to tell the people I’d come out of it, that I was okay, that I needed my vent turned down, that I was okay, that they should cancel the MRI, that I was okay. I could hear him clear as a church bell on an Austrian hilltop. He was happy now.

My neurologist came, my internist, the respiratory tech, the nurses, Dr. Chen. Pretty much everyone Mack could think of calling was paged to come see me and do something for me. I think that even Al, the guard from the hospital entrance, poked his head into my cubical for a second.

It wasn’t long before they removed the ET tube and let me take over the breathing thing on my own. And soon after that, I lost the IVs too. Before I knew it, all I felt was exhaustion and the burning in my episiotomy.

I’d come full circle.

***

When I got discharged, I left the hospital for what I hoped was the last time. At least as a patient. I’d been one of those far more often than was good for me. I’d had my fill of it for at least the next two hundred years or so.

My maternity stay had only been extended by forty-eight hours. Once the Pavulon wore off, everything went back to normal. I had to thank God that my wonderful husband had come in when he had. I hadn’t been out long enough to suffer any permanent damage.

Mack took Howard and me home. We had a warm reception from Ollie. It was a special time. Though Mack had a melancholy air drifting around him. He was still trying to deal with all he’d learned about his sister.

Jackie was being held without bond and would probably be in prison for a very long time to come. She’d orchestrated the kidnappings, the break-in at Uncle Howard’s, and even the phone threats to try to get me away from Mack, getting Carl’s handyman Jerry, the scary-hairy guy, to do the dirty work for her. She didn’t realize I’d thought Jerry’s phone threats meant to leave Carl alone, not Mack. Guess she should have supervised her stooge a little better. Made sure he carried out her wishes a little more accurately.

But if she had, things might have been worse. Jackie seemed more malicious than Jerry. Though he’d actually done everything, it was apparent Jackie had planned the worst of everything.

The immense hate she carried inside her even for her own children was painful to realize. As the police searched her belongings for evidence, detectives found photo albums of Jack and Zoe. Jackie had viciously defaced their portraits. Scornful, contemptuous words had been scrawled in the margins around the pictures. They found an illegal stash of narcotics with her things. Mostly prescription pain pills but some street drugs too. Mixed with her instability, it was a recipe for disaster.

They also found selfies Jackie had tweeted of her with Jerry, who they charged with shooting Anna and killing Howard and Charlotte. The photos were posted before Jackie was paralyzed, and the two were obviously more than just acquaintances. They appeared to be vacationing together at some tropical resort. Somewhere along the way Jerry had changed from Carl’s handyman to Jackie’s candy man and lover.

Through all the cleaning and digging, Mack found a page torn from Nikki’s chart with her vital statistics on it. He came to the conclusion that Jackie had Nikki’s chart hidden with her and when we unexpectedly showed up at Mack’s condo in the middle of the day, she just pretended the chart had been among Mack’s things. She had had it all the while, a side benefit of Jerry’s job in Medical Records.

The regret Mack felt for having trusted her so entirely would probably never completely leave him. He realized how much he’d fed into her wiles by always sharing with her the details of his work, of Nikki’s situation, of Carl’s activities in his office and lab. He’d thought she was interested in his work and life. He’d thought he was helping her stay connected to the outside world she’d lost her way in. He’d thought she was healthy and normal.

He was having a hard time letting it go, not holding himself responsible for her deterioration. One concession he made, which helped him move a little closer toward healing, was to offer to Anna and Joe the chance to adopt Jackie’s baby. Jackie lost all parental rights and the judge gave Mack custody.

Because she was Charlotte’s genetic sister, after much thought and consideration, Anna and Joe decided they would like to adopt her and give her the love and home they had so wanted to provide for Charlotte. Soon after she moved in with them, she began to thrive and respond like I’d never seen her do before. And Anna began to improve at even greater speeds with the new vitality a young life brought back into their home.

With all the cleaning and rearranging for our new life, it was time for me to empty my apartment and start fresh as Mrs. James Mackenzie in a new home. We found a wonderful brownstone not far from the hospital. Mack and I were both eager to move in and settle down as a family.

Ollie and I had lived in my apartment over ten years and had way too much junk to sort through. I tackled a pile of debris, trying to figure out what to keep and what to let go. Next to Howard in his infant seat sat Ollie in a bright circle of hot sunshine, tall and proud of the family’s new addition. He was giving me tips about what he thought should go.

I held up the poster of George Clooney, which I’d taken down from the boarded kitchen window.

“What do you think, Ollie? Should this go with us or not?”

Ollie didn’t have to even think about it. He’d wanted it out years ago.

“Okay.” I stuck it in the huge black bag of trash. Even though I disagreed, I wanted to avoid disharmony in our new home. “How about this?” I held up a copy of
People
magazine all about Jennifer Lawrence that Ollie had asked me to pick up for him when I went for some groceries one day last winter. “Can we toss this yet?”

He nodded, but only reluctantly.

I showed him the Curious George porcelain monkey, but not to give him a vote. I’d glued it back together with superglue as best as I could. “This is going with us, like it or not. I know you’re jealous of him, but he’ll never take your place. I adore you. Even though he takes way less maintenance than you.”

Ollie huffed indignantly, but he was mollified by my declaration of love. And it probably helped that George now sported a crack down the middle of his face.

When we finished going through the closet and filled the giant Hefty bag, I threw it like Santa’s sack over my shoulder, hoisted Howard’s infant seat with the other hand, and told Ollie to keep cleaning while Howard and I went out to dump the garbage.