Texas Miracle. Gwen Ford Faulkenberry

Texas Miracle - Gwen Ford Faulkenberry


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      “You are spoiling me, Jacqueline. Not closing never would have been an option before. But your skills have rendered my presence a lot less valuable.”

      She snorted. “Not less valuable. Just a little less required.”

      He grinned. “Well, thanks a lot. I think.”

      She laughed, that musical sound again.

      “Don’t work too hard,” he said.

      “Keep me posted when you can.” Her voice turned tender with concern.

      “I will.” As Mac hung up the phone he felt warm, content. It was nice to have someone to call, to share his news.

      * * *

      THE ROOM STELLA moved to was sumptuous by regular hospital standards. It seemed pains were taken to make Labor and Delivery friendlier, more comfortable. “It’s the happiest wing of the hospital!” a chipper Certified Nursing Assistant sang out as he brought in extra chairs to accommodate the family. The expression on Joiner’s face, however, was not happy.

      “Superman,” as the brothers had dubbed him since the movie Man of Steel featured Joiner’s look-alike in the role, was drawn up as tight as a bowstring. When Gillian and Sarah arrived, the brothers suggested they take him and Buster out for a bite to eat. But Buster, assessing the situation, said, “Joiner, you go on and get outside for a minute. You’ve got a long night ahead of you. I’ll stay here till you get back, then I’m going home to my own bed. I’ll tend the animals and be back in the morning.”

      Stella nodded. “I’ll be out of it in a few minutes, anyway. They just gave me another dose of pain medicine. Go eat. Get out of here.” She shooed him with her IV-laden hands, smiling bravely.

      “We’ll be here, too,” Sarah said.

      Finally, Joiner agreed. “I guess I’ll go since Mac’s buying.” He managed a grin in Mac’s direction.

      They piled in Mac’s truck, which had front and backseats, and he drove just a few blocks away to a steak house. Although he was the most conservative spender of his brothers, he also believed there was a time for extravagant gestures, and he ordered a blooming onion, Aussie fries and beers with limes for everyone. He watched as Joiner’s shoulders visibly relaxed.

      “So tell us everything,” Hunt implored Joiner.

      “Everything went fast there at the end, didn’t it, Mac?” Joiner began. “All day they’ve run tests, thinking it could be gallbladder, acid reflux, different stuff. But that last blood work came back with wacky liver enzymes and I guess that’s when they knew it was this HELLP syndrome.” Joiner rubbed his eyes. “You heard what the doctor said. The only way to stop it is to get the baby out.”

      “I didn’t hear everything you asked him, though,” Cullen said. “Did you ask something about the timing? Like why the baby has to come now?”

      “I did. You know the baby looked good all day on the monitor. So Stella and I were both wondering if she could stay in there awhile longer, you know, like maybe two more weeks, if they could just control Stella’s pain.”

      “Yeah, makes sense.” Hunt said. “Give those lungs a little longer to develop.”

      “That’s exactly what we were thinking,” said Joiner. “But the doctor said absolutely not. He said if they didn’t take the baby out, both she and Stella would be dead in two weeks.”

      “That’s terrifying!” Cullen’s eyes were as big as Texas.

      Joiner nodded gravely.

      Mac adjusted his glasses with shaking hands. “I’m just thankful you brought her when you did, and they caught everything quickly. From what I heard, the prognosis sounds very hopeful.”

      “Yes. Yes it does.” Joiner nodded. “Dr. Laws seems to think babies are pretty safe to be born after twenty-eight weeks and we are in the thirty-second.”

      “That’s great,” said Hunt.

      “It’s not ideal.” Joiner squeezed his hands into fists. “But probably—surely—everything will be okay.”

      Mac patted Joiner on the back. “I believe it will. Stella is a strong woman.”

      Joiner sighed. “It’s not how we planned it, but I have to trust God has a plan.”

      They ate their steaks in relative silence compared with the usual brotherhood meetings back in Kilgore. It seemed there was everything and nothing to say. The gravity of the situation—its danger as well as its potential joy—hung in the air around their table.

      Joiner didn’t hurry them, but Mac knew he wanted to get back to the hospital. He tried to pay the bill in secret. Mac saw and stopped him. “This one’s on me. It’s not every day a guy becomes an uncle.”

      * * *

      THEY ALL HUNG out in Stella’s room for a few hours after Buster left. Alma and her husband, Felix, arrived with a bag of clothes and toiletries for Joiner and Stella, along with hot sopaipillas and honey. Thirty minutes or so after they left, Hunt and Cullen drove back to Kilgore with their wives. Mac stayed till bedtime.

      “I’ll see you in the morning. Try to get some rest.” He kissed Stella on the cheek.

      She squeezed his hand. “Thanks for taking care of us.”

      “Love you, girl,” Mac said.

      “Love you back.”

      As he and Joiner walked toward the door, his brother said, “The plan is to start Pitocin about seven o’clock.”

      “I’ll be here at eight—that good?”

      “How will you manage that with work?”

      “It’s already managed. New assistant, Jacqueline, remember?”

      “That’s good.” Joiner hugged him hard. “Thanks for everything.”

      On the way home, Mac decided to call Jacqueline, not because he had any new news to report or even because he was curious about what might have happened at the office. He wouldn’t admit this to her, and most certainly not to himself, but he decided to call simply because he wanted to hear the sound of her voice.

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