Navy Blues
Page 22

Now Steve was out of her life and she’d lost her baby, too.
Moisture ran down the side of her face, but when she tried to lift her hand, she found she hadn’t the strength.
A sob came, wrenched from her soul. There would be no more children for her. She was destined to live alone for the rest of her life.
"Nurse, do something. She’s in pain."
The words drifted from a great distance, and she tossed her head to and fro in an effort to discover the source. She saw no one in the fog. No one.
Once more the debilitating sense of loneliness overtook her and she was alone. Whoever had been there had left her to find her own way through the darkness.
More sobs came – her own, she realized – erupting in deafening sound all around her.
Then she felt something – a hand she thought – warm and gentle, press over her abdomen. The weight of it was a comfort she couldn’t describe.
"Your baby’s alive," the voice told her. "Can you feel him? He’s going to live and so are you I"
It was a voice of authority, a voice of a man who spoke with confidence; a voice few would question.
A familiar voice.
The dark fog started to close in again and Carol wanted to shout for it to stop. She stumbled toward the light, but it was shut off from her, and she found herself trapped in a black void, defenseless and lost. She didn’t know if she would ever have the strength to escape it.
A persistent squeak interrupted Carol’s sleep. A wheel far off in the distance was badly in need of oil. The irritating ruckus grew louder until Carol decided it would be useless to try to ignore it any longer.
She opened her eyes to discover Steve’s sister standing over her.
"Lindy?"
"Carol, oh, Carol, you’re awake."
"Shouldn’t I be?" she asked. Her former sister-in-law looked as if she were about to burst into tears.
"I can’t believe it. We’ve been so worried…. No one thought you were going to make it." Lindy cupped her hands over her mouth and nose. "We nearly lost you, Carol Kyle!"
"You did?" This was news to her. She had little memory. The dreadful pain had returned – she remembered that. And then she’d been trapped in that marsh, lost and confused, but it hadn’t felt so bad. She had been hot – so terribly hot – she recalled, but there were pleasant memories there, too. Someone had called out to her from there, assured her. She couldn’t place what the voice had said, but she remembered how she’d struggled to walk toward the sound of it. The voice hadn’t always been comforting. Carol recalled how one time it had shouted at her, harsh and demanding. She hadn’t wanted to obey it then and had tried to escape, but the voice had followed her relentlessly, refusing to leave her alone.
"How do you feel?"
"Like I’ve been asleep for a week."
"Make that two."
"Two?" Carol echoed, shocked. "That long?"
"All right, almost two weeks. It’s actually been ten days. You had emergency surgery and then everything that could go wrong did. Oh, Carol, you nearly died."
"My baby’s okay, isn’t she?" From somewhere deep inside her heart came the reassurance that whatever else had happened, the child had survived. Carol vividly remembered the voice telling her so.
"Your baby is one hell of a little fighter."
Carol smiled. "Good."
Lindy moved a chair closer to the bed and sat down. "The doctor said he felt you’d come out of it today. You made a turn for the better around midnight."
"What time is it now?"
Lindy checked her watch. "About 9:00 a.m."
Already her eyes felt incredibly heavy. "I think I could sleep some more."
"As well you should."
Carol tried to smile. "So my daughter is a fighter…. Maybe I’ll name her Sugar Ray Kyle."
"Go ahead and get some rest. I’ll be here when you wake up."
Already Carol felt herself drifting off, but it was a pleasant sensation. The warm black folds closed their arms around her in a welcoming embrace.
When she stirred a second time, she discovered Lindy was at her bedside reading.
"Is this a vigil or something?" she asked, grinning. "Every time I wake up, you’re here."
"I wanted to be sure you were really coming out of it," Lindy told her.
"I feel much better."
"You look much better."
The inside of her mouth felt like a sewer. "Do you have any idea how long it’ll be before I can go home?"
"You won’t. You’re coming to live with Rush and me for a couple of weeks until you regain your strength. And we won’t take no for an answer."
"But – "
"No arguing!" Lindy’s smile softened her brook-no-nonsense tone.
"I don’t deserve a friend as good as you," Carol murmured, awed by Lindy’s generosity.
"We should be sisters, and you know it."
Carol chose not to answer that. She preferred to push any thoughts of her ex-husband from her mind.
"This probably isn’t the time to talk about Steve."
It wasn’t, but Carol didn’t stop her.
"I don’t know what you said to him, but he doesn’t seem to think you want to see him again. Carol, he’s been worried sick over you. Won’t you at least talk to him?"
A lump the size of a goose egg formed in her throat. "No," she whispered. "I don’t want to have anything to do with Steve. We’re better off divorced."
Chapter Fourteen
"I’m not an invalid," Carol insisted, frowning at her ex-sister-in-law as she carried her own breakfast dishes to the sink.
"But you’ve only been out of the hospital a week," Lindy argued, flittering around her like a mother hen protecting her smallest chick.
"For heaven’s sake, sit down," Carol cried, "before you drive me crazy!"
"All right, all right."
Carol shared a knowing smile with Rush Callaghan, Lindy’s husband. He was a different man than the Rush Carol had known before his marriage to Lindy. He smiled openly now. Laughed. Carol had been fond of Rush, but he’d always been so very serious – all Navy. The military wouldn’t find a man more loyal than Rush, but loving Lindy had changed him – and for the better. Lindy had brought sunshine and laughter into his life and brightened his world in a wide spectrum of rainbow colors.
"Come on, Lindy," Rush said, "you can walk me to the door and kiss me goodbye."
With an eagerness that made Carol smile, her good friend escorted Rush to the front door and lingered there several minutes.
When she returned, Lindy walked blindly into the kitchen, wearing a dazed, contented grin. She plopped herself down in a chair, reached for her empty coffee cup and sighed. "He’ll be gone for a couple of days."
"Are you going to suffer those Navy blues?"
"I suppose," Lindy said. She lifted her mug and rested her elbows on the table. "I’m a little giddy this morning because Rush and I reached a major decision last night." She smiled and the sun seemed to shine through her eyes. "We’re going to start a family. Our first wedding anniversary is coming up soon, and we thought this would be a good way to celebrate."
"Sweet potatoes," Carol said, grinning from ear to ear. "They worked for me."
Lindy gave her a look that insinuated that perhaps Carol should return to the hospital for much-needed psychiatric treatment. "What was that?"
"Sweet potatoes. You know – yams. I heard a medical report over the news last year that reported the results of a study done on a tribe in Africa whose diet staple was sweet potatoes. The results revealed a higher estrogen level in the women and they attributed that fact to the yams."
"I see."
Lindy continued to study her closely. Carol giggled. "I’m not joking! They really work. I wanted to get pregnant and I couldn’t count on anything more from Steve than Christmas Eve, so I ate enough sweet potatoes for my body to float in the hormone."
"One night did it?" Lindy’s interest was piqued, although she struggled not to show it.
"Two actually – but who knows how long it would have taken otherwise. I ate that vegetable in every imaginable form – including some I wouldn’t recommend. If you want, I’ll loan you my collection of recipes."
A slow smile spread over Lindy’s face, catching in her lovely brown eyes. "I want!"
Carol rinsed her plate and stuck it inside the dishwasher.
"Let me do that!" Lindy insisted, jumping to her feet. "Honest to goodness, Carol. You’re so stubborn."
"No, please, I want to help. It makes me feel like I’m being useful." She never had been one to sit and do nothing. This period of convalescence had been troubling enough without Lindy babying her.
"You’re recovering from major surgery for heaven’s sake!" Steve’s sister insisted.
"I’m fine."
"Now, maybe, but a week ago---"
Even now Carol had a difficult time realizing how close she’d come to losing her life. It was the voice that had pulled her back, refusing to let her slip into the darkness, the voice that had urged her to live. Something deep within her subconscious had demanded she cling to life when it would have been so easy to surrender.
"Lindy, I need to ask you something." Unexpectedly Carol’s mind was buzzing with doubts about the future.
"Sure, what is it?"
"If anything were to happen to me after the baby’s born – "
"Nothing’s going to happen to you," Lindy argued.
"Probably not." Carol pulled out the kitchen chair and sat down. She didn’t want to sound as though she had a death wish, but with the baby came a responsibility she hadn’t thought of before her illness. "I don’t have much in the way of family. My mother died several years ago – soon after Steve… soon after I was married. She and my father were divorced years before, and I hardly know him. He has another family and I rarely hear from him."
Lindy nodded. "Dr. Elgin, the surgeon, asked us to contact any close family members and Steve phoned your father. He… he couldn’t come."
"He’s a busy man," Carol said, willingly offering an excuse for her father, the way she had for most of her life. "But if I were to die," she persisted, "there’d be no one to raise my baby."
"Steve…"
Carol shook her head. "No. He’ll probably marry again and have his own family someday. And if he doesn’t, he’ll be so involved in the Navy he won’t be much good for raising a child." It was so much to ask of anyone, even a friend as near and dear as Lindy. "Would you and Rush consider being her guardians?"
"Of course, Carol," Lindy assured her warmly. "But nothing’s going to happen to you."
Carol smiled. "I certainly plan on living a long, productive life, but something like this surgery hits close to home."