especially. I thought Michael was different. The times I visited you, he seemed so devoted. I thought you had everything, honey.”
“Isolation. Drawers full of pills. Endless poking and prodding by my follow-up team.” Lacy ran a restless hand over her swollen stomach. “I quit taking everything when I found out I was pregnant.”
“Oh, Lace! You shouldn’t have stopped the anti-rejection pills. Your body needs them to function properly.”
“Yes, but I…” After struggling to catch a breath, Lacy whispered, “I…want her to be perfect. N…or…mal.”
“You know it’s a girl?”
Lacy shook her head and cradled her abdomen again. “No. I haven’t consulted a doctor. I just call my baby Abby. You remember my best friend in high school? Abi…gail?”
Faith’s flicker of a smile was soon replaced by a frown. “So, if you’re not having Michael’s baby—then whose?” She bit her lip and glanced away. “I’m sorry to be nosy. But it occurred to me that if you cared for a man enough to make love with him, he ought to be here seeing you through this.”
Lacy grew fretful again. “I…I—K-Kipp’s on the U.S. sailing team. We, ah, met the day I left Michael. After I fi-filed for divorce, I…I stopped at the club. Kipp…well,” she explained haltingly, “he was lonely, too. The next day he took me sailing and we, ah, made love on the boat. In the weeks after, we danced, sailed, combed the beach. He brought me flowers. Kipp never treated me like a…a…an invalid.” Lacy took a long time to finish her sentence.
“Sounds…wonderful.” Faith didn’t want to hear more, and Lacy should rest and save her strength. “Dr. Finegold ought to be out of surgery by now. I’ll go see what’s keeping him.” She rose and started away.
Lacy plucked at Faith’s arm. “Let me fin…ish. Kipp’s team went to Florida for a race. H-he phoned every day.” A weak smile lifted her blue-tinted lips. “I expected him to visit when the team returned. He didn’t. A few days before he was due back, I got sick. Flu, I thought. I went to the clinic for antibiotics.” She labored to catch her breath. “And…learned I was pregnant.”
Again the room fell silent except for the muted puff of oxygen combined with Lacy’s raspy breath.
“Shh. We can talk after you’ve recovered.” Lacy’s breathing had changed. Her respiration had become so shallow and erratic it frightened Faith. “It’s obvious the guy didn’t stick around. But don’t you worry. I make enough to hire a nanny to help with the baby. Lie quiet now, please,” Faith begged.
Lacy wouldn’t be denied. “I’d never been to Kipp’s house. He always came to mine.” Color splashed her ashen cheeks. “I…found his address and dr…ove there.” Tears flowed from the corners of her eyes.
Wanting to save her sister pain, Faith wiped the tears away with her thumbs. “Please don’t do this, Lacy. Some men are just jerks. Forget him.”
“I…I…parked and was admiring his house. His…his wife came out to…see if I was lost. I didn’t know he was m-m-married.” Tears rolled over Faith’s thumbs and onto Lacy’s pillow.
“The bastard!” Faith couldn’t help herself. She wished she could have five minutes alone with the man responsible for causing her sister this agony.
“The…irony, Faith. Kipp and his wife separated because she couldn’t conceive. They ar…gued over adopting. His dad, a bigwig on Wall Street, wants a grandson to carry on the family name. Kipp…dropped by later. To apologize. Seems his wife heard of a new fertility treatment. He felt obligated to l-let her try it.” Lacy’s thin body was racked with sobs. “I…he…doesn’t know about the baby. I don’t want him to.”
Straightening, Faith adjusted the oxygen hoses. “Oh, sweetie, don’t do this to yourself. You’re getting all worked up and it’s sapping what little capacity you have to breathe. I’m going to get a doctor.” Increasingly worried because Lacy’s skin felt clammy and her face now had a waxy cast, Faith sprang up and hurried across the room.
She yanked open the door and bumped into someone coming in. “Dr. Finegold!” she said, tugging him inside. “Faith Hyatt, sir. I’ve assisted you on post-op rounds. This is my sister.” Letting go of his sleeve, Faith waved toward the bed. “Lacy is a post heart-lung transplant patient,” Faith whispered. “At the onset of pregnancy, she quit taking her anti-rejection meds. Please, she needs help.”
The doctor walked to the bedside and swiftly began an exam. Each time he paused to write in the chart, his scowl deepened. “Who did her transplant?”
“Dr. Cameron. Michael Cameron,” Faith added, darting a guilty glance at Lacy.
“I only know him by reputation. Get him on the phone. Stat! Meanwhile, see if our staff cardiologist has ever assisted with a post-transplant delivery. And while you’re at the desk, Hyatt, order a sonogram.”
At each barked order, Faith nodded. Everyone on staff knew Finegold expected blind obedience. Still she dragged him aside. “You wouldn’t know, but Lacy is Dr. Cameron’s ex-wife,” she murmured. “She won’t authorize calling him.”
“She’s been assigned to my care, Nurse. I’m making the decisions.”
“Yes, sir.” As Faith turned and grasped the door handle, Finegold swore ripely. She felt the flap of his lab coat as he hurtled past her and bellowed into the hall. “Code blue. Get me a crash cart, on the double.” Racing back to the bed, he tore away blankets, sheets and the flimsy oxygen lines and started CPR.
Faith’s senses shut down totally until a cart slammed through the door accompanied by a trained team whose purpose it was to restore a patient’s vital signs. For the first time since she’d become a nurse, Faith didn’t see a patient lying there. She saw her baby sister. Pictures swam behind her eyes. Lacy as a newborn. Taking her first steps. Starting school. Going on her first date. A hospital-room wedding that had somehow led to this debacle. If Michael Cameron had been more of a husband, Lacy would be well and happy and living in New York. Lacy might not blame him, but Faith did. He’d promised to care for her sister in sickness and in health—until death parted them. Panic filled her as Finegold ordered the paddles applied to Lacy’s thin chest.
Lacy’s body jumped and so did Faith’s. She didn’t breathe again until a technician gave a thumbs-up sign, meaning Lacy’s heartbeat had resumed.
“Dammit, dammit, dammit,” Finegold cursed, yanking the stethoscope out of his ears to let it flop around his neck. “We have a pulse but it’s thready. Clear me for an O.R. This woman doesn’t have a snowball’s chance in the tropics if we don’t take the baby. How the hell far along is she? What kind of prenatal care has she had? Get Epstein, Carlson and Wainwright to scrub. Round up an anesthesiologist.” Finegold all but foamed at the mouth.
As he barked orders, Faith grabbed his arm. “My sister hasn’t had any prenatal care, but I’m familiar with her heart problems. Let me scrub with you.”
The doctor shook her off, never slowing his steps toward the door. “I know you’re qualified to assist, Hyatt, but you aren’t in any shape. Take a seat in the OB waiting room. I’ll find you when I’m finished.”
“But I want to help!”
“Pray,” he said,
