The Color of Hope (The Color of Heaven Series) (25 page)

“She’s a few weeks premature,” Jacob said, “so she’ll have to remain in an incubator for the time being.” He opened the door to the neonatal intensive care unit. “But everything’s looking good.”

He escorted me inside, where a number of newborns were lying in glass cribs.

“She’s over here,” Jacob said.

As we approached the fully enclosed glass case, I looked in at my niece and felt a giant swell of joy and love in my heart. I couldn’t believe what I was looking at – the little person who had been growing inside my sister’s belly for the past eight months.

This was the beginning of a new life. This child would be part of my world forever. She would grow into a curious toddler, perhaps a rebellious teenager, and eventually a woman. This baby was family, and the protective, loving bond I felt for her was both powerful and instantaneous.

“She’s so beautiful,” I softly said. “She looks like Nadia.”

“She looks like you, too,” Jacob replied, meeting my gaze over the top of the incubator. “If you’d like to open one of the portholes, you can reach in and touch her.”

“It’s okay for me to do that?” I asked, glancing over my shoulder at the nurses.

“Yes. It’s important for her to get to know your voice and your touch.”

I opened the little round door and reached in to caress the baby’s tiny head. “Her hair is so soft,” I whispered.

Overcome with fascination, I touched her hand and she gripped my finger. A tear spilled across my cheek. I laughed.

When I removed my hand and closed the door, I met Jacob’s gaze uncertainly over the top of the glass case. “There’s so much I need to tell you,” I said, “about Nadia and me, and the argument we had last night.”

I wasn’t sure how to explain that this baby’s father was the man I almost married – the man I’d caught kissing another woman in an elevator in Las Vegas. And that woman was my sister.

“There’s plenty of time for that,” Jacob said.

I looked down at my niece again. “I’m sorry we didn’t get to go fishing this morning.”

“There’s plenty of time for that, too,” he replied.

But I wasn’t so sure, because while I was on my knees in the dimly lit hospital chapel – and Jacob was shocking Nadia back to life on the operating table – I had made a desperate promise.

If all my prayers were answered, I was going to have to keep that promise.

F
OR THE NEXT
eight hours, I sat at Nadia’s bedside and continued to pray. I wasn’t sure if she could hear me, but I talked to her anyway and described the beautiful baby who was waiting to meet her.

“You have to wake up so you can give her a name,” I whispered in Nadia’s ear.

But she wouldn’t wake up.

She simply couldn’t.

My parents arrived that evening to help keep vigil at Nadia’s bedside. We held hands and prayed together and talked to her constantly, urging her to keep fighting and come back to us.

I also took my parents to see the baby, one at a time so that someone was always at Nadia’s side, willing her to come back.

Jacob, too, was a constant presence. He came by often to check on Nadia and answer any questions we had. I introduced him to my parents and explained that he was our neighbor and friend, but I made no mention of the fact that I was had been falling in love with him over the past few weeks, and had selfishly argued with Nadia the night before about moving her case to another doctor. I still blamed myself for her heart failure that night, and I was ashamed of the fight we’d had. I should have been able to let go of my anger. And she was right; I should have talked to her more, instead of shutting her out.

These things I grappled with. I wondered ‘what if’ I had handled things differently. What if I’d been able to forgive her earlier on? Maybe we could have gone back to the way things were. Maybe she would have moved out to Boston sooner and might never have caught that virus.

When the hour grew late, we were told to go home and get some rest. The head ICU nurse promised to call if there was any change.

My parents came home with me, and after sharing a pot of chamomile tea at the kitchen table, we all went to bed. I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. When I woke up, the sun was beaming through my window, casting a long ray of diagonal light across the room. I checked my clock. It was almost eight. There had been no phone calls from the hospital during the night, so I could only presume there was no change in Nadia’s condition.

My presumptions proved correct. When we arrived at the hospital later that morning, she was still in ICU and looked the same as the day before.

I decided to go and see the baby. This time I was permitted to hold her in my arms. I sat in a rocking chair and sang her a lullaby, and in those moments, all the stresses of the world simply faded away. I felt nothing but love and gratitude that she had made it this far. At least some of my prayers had been answered.

When I returned to the ICU, my parents were there. I pulled a chair closer to the bed and clasped Nadia’s hand.

“I hope you wake up soon,” I said, “because your sweet baby wants to meet you. I got to hold her just now, and she’s perfect. She’s the most beautiful little person in the whole wide world.”

To my surprise, Nadia squeezed my hand. Then her eyes opened and she turned her head on the pillow and frowned at me.

L
ATER
, I
WONDERED
if Nadia willed herself to wake up because she was agitated that I had held her baby before she did. If that was true, I decided not to dwell on it. The only thing that mattered was that she’d opened her eyes – and that meant there was hope.

I turned to my mother. “Can you get a nurse? She’s awake.”

Mom hurried from the room, while I stroked Nadia’s hair away from her forehead. “How are you feeling?”

She nodded, and the first words out of her mouth were, “My baby...?”

“She’s fine,” I said. “She’s doing really well. They’re taking good care of her in the nursery.” I paused. “Do you remember what happened?”

Nadia shook her head, while a nurse came in and checked her vitals.

“They had to do a C-section yesterday morning,” I explained, “but it went fine. Your baby’s adorable, Nadia. She’s the most beautiful thing in the world. Now you just need to recover and get your strength back.”

I looked up when Jacob walked in. “Nadia,” he said, approaching her side. “How are you feeling?” He withdrew a penlight from the pocket of his lab coat and shone it in her eyes.

She turned her head on the pillow and stared at me with questioning eyes. “Where’s Dr. Reynolds?” she whispered.

I shook my head. “Dr. Peterson is your doctor. He was there for everything yesterday, including the C-section. He saved your life, and he’s going to continue to be your doctor.”

She looked up at him. “Thank you.”

His eyes met mine, and all I could do was stare at him with an agonizing mixture of love and sorrow. “Thank you for bringing her back,” I said.

He merely nodded, and I knew he understood what was in my heart.

Sometimes there are lessons we need to learn, different ways we need to grow, but we don’t know what direction to grow
toward
until we meet someone who is everything we aspire to be. Some people call them role models. Heroes. Mentors.

Jacob Peterson was all of those things to me. He may have saved my sister’s life on the operating table, but on that day, he also saved mine, because through him I discovered what I was capable of, and it went beyond a robotic moral duty to do the right thing. There was something in my soul, something that came alive in me because of what I felt for this man. And for my sister.

A few hours after Nadia woke up, I left the ICU and went searching for Jacob on the cardiology floor. His office door was closed, so I asked the receptionist if it would be possible for me to speak with him. “I don’t have an appointment,” I explained. “I’m a neighbor of his.”

“What’s your name?” she asked.

“Diana Moore.”

She picked up the phone and called him. “Diana Moore is here and she’s wondering if you have a minute?” She hung up. “He said to go right in.”

Nervous knots invaded my belly. I felt as if I were walking up the steep steps to the gallows. “Thank you.”

When I entered his brightly lit office, Jacob was already rising from his chair and moving around his desk to greet me. I closed the door and remained there, leaning against it.

He stopped in the center of the room, gazing at me with understanding. Or was it dread? Either way, I sensed he already knew what I came to say.

“It’s been difficult,” he said.

I merely nodded, because I wasn’t sure I could form proper words. All I could do was move slowly toward him, wrap my arms around his waist, and lay my cheek on his shoulder. Closing my eyes, I melted into the warmth of his arms as they enveloped me in a caring embrace.

His hand stroked the back of my head, and I was immensely grateful that he did not rush me to say what I’d come here to say.

“I don’t want to let you go,” I whispered after a moment, and he kissed the top of my head.

Finally I summoned the will to take a step backward. His hand skimmed down the length of my arm until only our fingers were entwined.

“I want to be with you,” I said, “but Nadia needs you more.”

It wasn’t easy to stand there in his presence when all I wanted to do was dash back into his arms and kiss him passionately until I collapsed with rapture. My thoughts drifted to an image of the two of us sitting on the dock at his lakeside cabin at dawn, fishing off the end of it. I imagined lying back on the weathered boards, gazing up at the sky, while he moved over me and pressed his body to mine. Suddenly, I wanted him with an intensity that made me dizzy.

I had to stay focused, however. I needed to explain. “Remember when we were in the nursery yesterday, and I said there were things I wanted to tell you?”

“Yes,” he replied.

I sighed deeply and searched for the right way to begin. “My relationship with Nadia is complicated,” I said. “We’ve been apart more than we’ve been together and...”

I stopped a moment, then somehow found the strength to continue. “The baby you helped deliver yesterday... The father is the man I was seeing in LA. When I told you I caught him cheating with another woman, I didn’t tell you that the other woman was Nadia.”

Jacob’s eyebrows pulled together in a frown. His thumb rubbed over the back of my hand.

“I couldn’t even
think
about forgiving her,” I confessed, “which is why I left the west coast and came here. I probably never would have spoken to her again if she hadn’t gotten sick. So we’ve been struggling to get along since then, and she thinks I’m only helping her because of a need to be perfect, not because I care for her, or trust her, or love her.”

“Do you?” he asked. “Do you love her?”

“Yes,” I replied, without hesitation. “How could I not? She’s my twin sister, and that bond is somehow... unbreakable. I just couldn’t feel it before because I was so angry with her. But now, after seeing her come so close to death, I realize that the love in me is stronger than the anger. I don’t want to lose her, Jacob, and if she’s more comfortable with you as her doctor, then I don’t want to get in the way of that. She’s had so little that’s
good
in her life, while I’ve had so much.“