Wildflower (14 page)

Never in a million years had she imagined herself in a situation such as this. Iris reclined in the lounger across from Preston’s hospital bed. She watched the monitors for a while, and then the rise and fall of her husband’s chest as the respirator forced air in and released it.  The sounds of the monitors irritated her. It was a constant reminder that Preston’s life relied on all of those machines. And if one should fail, it could have fatal consequences.  Relatively assured that the mechanics of the monitors were working as they should, she picked up her book and continued reading to him.

Little Women
had been laying on the window sill in the lobby along with several other books. The handwritten sign read:
Feel free to take one or donate one
.  Her choices were
Charlotte’s Web
,
Persuasion
,
Dracula
, or
Little Women
.  Of the four, she had chosen
Charlotte’s Web,
but a young mother had just approached the window sill and spotted the classic.  Iris wasn’t into Jane Austen and
Dracula
was out of the question, so she chose
Little Women
.

Until yesterday, she hadn’t read
Little Women
since high school.  She flipped the page and read aloud, hoping that her voice was soothing to him. After she finished a chapter, she stretched and yawned.  She adjusted Preston’s leg rest, fixed the covers, and nudged the body pillow under his back to reposition him.

When Iris looked up, she saw Peter standing at the nurse’s station talking to one of the doctors. It looked like the doctor was explaining something to him, and Peter nodded periodically to indicate his understanding.

“Hey, beautiful,” Peter said to Iris in a somber tone. He leaned down and kissed her damp forehead. He looked at Preston and walked to the bed, fussing with his covers, “How’d he do today?”

“Fine. Nothing new so far.” She gathered her magazines and phone, shoved them in her purse and slung it over her shoulder. “Your parents went to Preston’s — I mean, our place — to get some rest. They’ll be back first thing in the morning.  Richard had a flight, and Prudence is with their girls.”

Peter nodded. “Thanks for the update.”

“I’ll be back,” she said. “I need something to eat. Would you like something?”

Peter shook his head. “I’ll eat later.”

“You’re welcome to stay with us, Peter. You don’t need to keep paying for a hotel room. You’re family.”

He held her outreached hand and nodded, “Thank you.”

***

Once Iris was out of sight, Peter pulled the chair close to Preston’s bed.  He held Preston’s hand in his.

“I’m not ready to lose you, Baby.”  The words got caught in his throat as he tried to contain his emotions. “Do you want to know why I’ve been so angry at you?”

The machines alarmed.  A nurse rushed into the room, made a few adjustments, and inserted something into one of the IV bags hanging next to the bed.  Once she left, he grabbed hold of Preston’s hand again.

“You were my little sister.  We did everything together.  I understood that you felt like a freak. I did. But I loved who you were, just the way you were.  And, when you decided to change yourself, it hurt.  No, it was painful because you didn’t seem to know how perfect you were.”

He cleared his throat.

“I’m jealous, too. This is the second woman you’ve stolen from me,” he said jokingly.  “Iris is a good woman. I was too stupid to see it at the time.”

The nurse walked into the room, “They are about to start dialysis on him.”

Peter said, “Okay. Can I stay in the room?”

“Once he’s hooked up you can come back in,” the nurse advised.

***

Peter walked to the waiting room.  When he arrived, he saw Iris sitting there, crying.  He moved beside her and wrapped his arms around her.  She sat curled next to him, her head on his chest, sobbing.

“It’ll be okay, Iris.  He’ll be just fine.”

“I love him so much, Peter.  I was so stupid for walking away from him.”

“So was I.”  He said thoughtfully, then continued, “I’m sorry, Iris. I really am.  I wanted to build an empire and leave a legacy – a mark in this world that showed I existed, that I was here,” Peter explained.

“Family is the only legacy worth leaving,” Iris responded, although her family had been the epitome of dysfunction.

“The doc told me I’m a match, so day after tomorrow, I’m donating my kidney.”

Iris sat up. “What? Are you sure you want to do that?”

He nodded, “That’s my brother in there fighting for his life.”

“You’re not going to blame him for the rest of his life are you? He doesn’t need that hanging over his head, too.”

Peter smirked then kissed Iris on top of her head.

“No. I won’t. I’m going to donate a kidney so that he can live a full life. Then, I’m going back to Houston to my wife and unborn child.”

For the first time in six weeks, Iris didn’t get angry at the thought of Peter and Sara.  There was something freeing about this moment.  Had she finally forgiven him?

“Good for you, Peter.  I’m glad you’re happy.”

“I didn’t say all of that,” he grinned.

The nurse came out and told them they could go back in the room if they’d like.

Both Peter and Preston were prepped for surgery at the same time.  They were wheeled down to the operating room together.  Peter was in Operating Room A and Preston was in the adjoining Operating Room B.  They first removed the kidney from Peter, and then rapidly transported it less than forty yards away to Preston’s operating room.  They sewed Peter up and sent him to the recovery room.  Preston’s surgery took much longer and was much riskier.

The entire Mayweather clan was in the waiting room watching
Good Morning America
, trying to keep their minds preoccupied as they awaited news about Peter and Preston.  Iris was sitting in the recovery room’s waiting area.  The nurse gave Iris Peter’s belongings and told her what room he would be moved to.  While she waited, his cell phone rang.  It was Sara. Iris answered.

“Sara? This is Iris.”

“Iris? Why are you answering Peter’s phone?”

“Peter’s in surgery.”

“What? What happened?”

“He didn’t tell you?” Iris got some satisfaction from her not knowing.

“Tell me what?”

“His brother, Preston, needed an emergency kidney transplant and Peter volunteered to donate his.  They’re having the surgery as we speak.”

Sara went quiet.

“Iris?”

“Yes?”

“Something’s wrong.  Can you tell Peter something’s wrong?”

“Something like what?”

“I don’t know. I’m about to go to the hospital. Will you let him know for me?”

Iris heard sirens in the background.

“Is that an ambulance?”

“Yes. Please tell Peter to come home as soon as he can. I’m so scared.”

“Oh, my God, Sara. You’re scaring me! What’s going on?”

“They’re here. I have to go.”

“Give the medic the phone, let me speak to him.”

There was silence, then rumbling, then Iris heard a female voice.

“Hello?”

“Hi, this is Iris Roberts. I’m related to your patient’s husband. Please call this number and let us know where she is and how she’s doing. If the hospital needs a contact, please give them this number. This is her husband’s number. His name is Peter Mayweather.”

The woman agreed and then the call was ended.

Iris paced the floor contemplating what she would say to Peter.  He certainly wasn’t in any condition to get on a plane to go back home. But his baby was about to be born.  He was about to be a father.

“Oh my goodness, Peter might be a father by the time he comes out of recovery,” she thought aloud.

She felt her phone vibrate.  It was a text from Idris.  He said that Preston’s surgery was going well and they were just about done. Iris had a sigh of relief. In the meantime, they were wheeling Peter to the room.  He was still out of it, but was lucid enough to follow their directions. He moved from the gurney to the bed.  The nurse came in, got him situated, and asked Iris a few questions.  She looked at Peter, who had fallen back asleep.

For a brief moment, Iris felt a sense of relief. Now she was worried about Sara.  She hadn’t heard anything from the medics or the hospital.  She should have heard something by now.  She dialed Sara’s number from Peter’s phone.  It rang until it went to voicemail.  She waited a little while then tried again. Still no answer.

She figured she’d have to be patient and prayed that everything was going well.  Sara had betrayed her, but that didn’t stop Iris from loving her.  She didn’t like what she had done, but she loved her nonetheless.  Peter seemed to be waking up.  The aid came in to take his vitals.  That’s when the call came in. Finally.  She answered Peter’s phone with a sense of satisfaction that everything would be okay.  She was hoping she’d hear that the baby had been born healthy, and Sara was resting and well.

“Peter Mayweather, please.”

“He’s recovering from surgery, but I am a close personal friend of his wife’s. I’m the one who spoke to the medics.”

“Oh, well, this is the medic calling. I’m not supposed to call, but I felt bad because no one had called you yet.  They said it’s policy to notify the next of kin, which is her husband.”

Iris didn’t like the sound of that.

“What’s going on?” Iris asked.

“I’m sorry to tell you this, but Sara Birch Mayweather died on the way to the hospital.  We couldn’t revive her.”

“What?”

Instantaneously, tears streamed down her face.  She hadn’t expected to hear that Sara was deceased. Maybe there were complications, or she miscarried, or something like that. Never had she imagined that she’d be telling Peter he was a widower.

“I’m so sorry, ma’am. I could get in so much trouble for telling you, but I thought that you should know. You seemed so concerned.”

Iris composed herself, “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

“Oh, ma’am?”

“Yes?”

“I heard that they were able to save the baby.”

“What hospital?”

The medic told her, and they ended the call.

Iris rushed down to the recovery waiting area while they were preparing to move Preston to the transplant recovery floor.  She texted Pru and asked her and Richard to meet her in Preston’s room.  By the time Pru and Richard arrived, Preston was being worked-up by the nurse.

“Peter’s wife died.” Iris didn’t waste time with chitchat.  She just dove right in.

“What?” Pru and Richard said simultaneously.

“Pru, what can we do, legally, to get the hospital to release the information to us? Peter is not in any condition right now, but I want to make sure we know everything before we tell him.”

“Well, the hospital is supposed to notify him.”

“They haven’t called.  The medic felt bad about them not calling, so she told me.”

“What happened?” Richard asked.

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Sara called and said something was wrong and the ambulance arrived to pick her up while we were talking. She sounded so panicked and scared.”

“We’ll either have to wait until the hospital calls or wait until Peter is able to call the hospital.”

“Oh, they were able to save the baby. But that’s all I know.”

“Oh my God. That baby is going to be with the State if we don’t get down there,” Pru said.

“I can charter a plane and we can fly down there,” Richard said.

“How soon will they release Peter?” Pru asked.

“I think they said a couple of days.  But I’m not going. I’m staying here with Preston.”

“My God. What a mess we have here,” Richard said. “Nobody is to tell Mom and Dad. Let’s just keep this among ourselves until we work this out.”

They all agreed.

The next morning, Peter was lucid, but sick from the anesthesia.  Iris was sitting beside the bed when he woke up, and he seemed pleased to see her sitting there.  She told him good morning, and she was trying to find a way to tell him about Sara when she was saved by the vibration of his phone.  She had charged it overnight and left it beside his bed, in case she wasn’t there and the hospital called.

She handed Peter the phone.  He answered.  Iris heard him say, “This is he,” and then he was quiet for a long while.  He asked about the baby.  He nodded.  Then he asked when.  Iris wanted to know what was being said on the other end but she remained quiet, hoping he’d ask all the right questions.

Peter was smart, but he was also recovering from surgery.  Iris heard him ask “How?”, and then all was quiet for a while. He told the person on the other end of the phone that he had just had surgery and would send his brother and attorney on his behalf to handle matters until he was cleared to travel back to Houston.  He was far more with-it than Iris gave him credit for.

When he ended the call, he handed the phone to Iris.

“Call Richie and tell him to bring Pru with him.”

She did.

“How’s Baby doing? Did the surgery go okay?” Peter asked.

“He’s well. I’m going to go see him after his dialysis.”

“Dialysis? Why is he on dialysis when I just gave him a kidney? Didn’t it work?”

“The surgery went fine. They said sometimes it can take a couple of days for the kidney to start working.”

He raised the head of the bed and turned his body, grimacing from the pain.  Iris ran to his side to help him. She stuffed a pillow under his back so that he could lie on his side.

“Thank you for being here.”

“What did the hospital say?”

“I only want to say this once. Let’s wait until Richie and Pru get here.”

She nodded. Yep, Peter was back. Efficient. Smart. Decisive.

Richard and Pru were downstairs with Preston.  Only a few people could be in the room at a time, so Iris chose to sit with Peter while Richard and Pru spent some time with Preston.  Within fifteen minutes, they were gathered in Peter’s room.

“Family meeting,” Peter said.

It had been a long time since they’d had a family meeting.  The last time they had one was for their parents’ twenty-fifth anniversary.  That was more than fifteen years ago.

“Richie, charter a plane to fly you and Pru to Houston. Iris knows the charter company I use. Pru, I need you to act on my behalf as my attorney.”

“Okay,” Pru agreed.

“First, I want you to get my daughter.”

Pru smiled. So did Iris.

“You have a daughter, Pea,” Iris said happily, but it quickly turned to sadness.  She was sad in part because she’d always wanted to have kids with Peter. But the bigger part of it was, he’d be raising that little girl all alone.

“Then Pru, will you put together a team of med-mal attorneys? I want to sue the hospital.”

Pru nodded.

“Name your daughter, Pea.  They’re going to have to do the birth certificate,” Iris said.

“Call her Sara Anne Mayweather.”

“Can you tell us what happened to Sara?” Pru asked.

“Sara had a form of preeclampsia. She had gone undiagnosed. We didn’t know anything about it. She could have been saved had we known.”

“How do you know?” Iris asked.

“Because Sara was obsessive about her appointments and anytime she felt the slightest thing, she went to the doctor. If they didn’t know she had preeclampsia, then someone was negligent. And my wife died because of it.”

“Pea, are you okay?” Iris asked.  She was concerned because he seemed to be in business mode and not a man who’d just learned his wife had died suddenly.

“No, I’m not okay. One of the women I love is now dead. The mother of my child is dead. I’m not okay.  Richie, I need you to go now. I have only one more day before they call children’s services.”

He looked at Iris, “Go be with your husband.”

“I need to know that you’re okay. You seem…”

“I’m pissed. And I need you to be with my brother. Please.”

She recognized that tone. It was the tone he used just before he lost his temper.  She gathered her things, kissed Peter on his cheek, and left his room.

Just outside his door, she leaned against the wall and allowed herself to cry.  Until almost two months ago, Sara had been her best friend. Now she was dead.  She died scared and alone.  Then she heard whimpering.  It was Peter.

Iris couldn’t remember when she had last heard him cry.  Her heart sank when the whimpers became soulful sobs — gut wrenching — from that hollow place way down deep inside.  The place that most of us never touch, never go to because there is too much pain there.  She wanted to go back in the room and comfort him.  But he had sent her off so that he could be alone, to cry for his beloved.