A Slice Of Heaven

“Annie’s going to be fine,” Maddie said, giving Dana Sue’s hand one last squeeze before she started the engine and pulled out of the driveway.

“She wasn’t breathing,” Dana Sue said, shivering despite the warm night. “It was as if her heart had just stopped. It’s this damned eating disorder, I know it. God, Maddie, what if she…?” She couldn’t even voice the question.

“She’s breathing now,” her friend reminded her. “Focus on that. You heard the EMTs. She was breathing okay on her own when they left the house.”

Dana Sue frowned at her. “Don’t make it sound as if this was nothing. It’s not like when she fainted at your wedding. People don’t lose consciousness and stop breathing unless it’s serious. She could have had a cardiac arrest or a stroke or something. What kind of mother am I to let things get this bad?”

“Stop thinking the worst,” Maddie commanded. “You’re a wonderful mother, and whatever happened, she’s in good hands now. There are specialists on call at the hospital and I’m sure they’ll be there by the time the ambulance arrives.”

Dana Sue nodded, but she wasn’t consoled. What if the damage was already done? What if whatever had happened was so terrible her beautiful girl never fully recovered?

Dana Sue wanted to pray, wanted to bargain with God to save her baby, but she couldn’t find the words, couldn’t think at all. It was as if she’d awakened from a deep sleep to find herself living a nightmare.

“Dana Sue?” Maddie repeated, finally getting her attention.

“What? Did you say something?”

“I asked if you’d given any thought to calling Ronnie,” her friend said quietly. “He deserves to know what’s going on. Annie is his daughter, too, and whatever you think of him, he always adored her.”

“I know,” Dana Sue whispered, tears stinging her eyes as she remembered the way Ronnie had doted on Annie from the moment she was born. In the early days he’d been as eager as she was to get up for the middle-of-the-night feedings. More than once, she’d found him rocking Annie back to sleep with a look of such profound awe on his face it had made her cry. There was an entire album filled with pictures of the two of them. Dana Sue had shoved it to the back of a closet and buried it under blankets after he’d gone.

“I know I should call him,” she conceded, “but I don’t know if I can cope with this and seeing him, too.”

“I don’t think you have a choice,” Maddie said. “Besides, you’re stronger than you think. You can cope with whatever you have to as long as you keep reminding yourself that getting Annie well is the only thing that matters.”

“Knowing her dad was here would mean the world to her,” Dana Sue admitted. Before the divorce, the bond between father and daughter had been one of the things she’d loved most about Ronnie. That bond had deepened as Annie had gotten older and gone from pleading for piggyback rides to learning to ride a bike or to hit a baseball in an attempt to impress Ty. It was Dana Sue’s fault that bond had been broken. She was the one who’d dragged Annie into the middle of her pain and resentment. And when she should have been relieved to discover that those two were talking again, she’d been jealous, just as Maddie had said.

“Call him,” Maddie urged. “Do you know how to reach him?”

“I know he’s somewhere around Beaufort. I can probably reach him on his cell phone. I doubt he’s had the number changed. And if that doesn’t work, I’ll bet Annie has his number tucked away somewhere.”

“Try his cell,” Maddie instructed. “If you don’t get him, I’ll go back to the house and look through Annie’s address book.”

“I’ll wait till we get to the hospital and find out how she’s doing,” Dana Sue said, wanting to put off making the call as long as possible. She didn’t want to hear Ronnie’s voice, didn’t want to hear even the slightest accusation that she’d somehow failed as a mother, or else how could this have happened? It was one thing to blame herself, but to see the blame in his eyes would destroy her.

Maddie regarded her with a disappointed expression, but said nothing.

Dana Sue sighed at her unspoken disapproval. “Okay, I’ll try him now.”

But how on earth was she supposed to tell Ronnie that his precious girl had nearly died tonight, could still die tonight? In all the scenarios she’d ever imagined for speaking to her ex again, this was one she’d never thought of. Maybe because it was so awful she’d never dared to contemplate it…or maybe because it was the one guaranteed to bring him roaring back into her life.

5

The ringing of Ronnie’s cell phone jarred him out of a deep sleep and a dream about Dana Sue. When he heard her voice on the other end of the line, he thought he must still be dreaming. Only dimly aware that he clutched the cell phone in his hand, he closed his eyes and hugged the pillow a little more tightly, hoping to sink back into the dream. The phone fell from his hand.

“Dammit, Ronnie Sullivan, don’t you dare go back to sleep!” Dana Sue shouted in his ear. “Ronnie, wake up! I wouldn’t be calling if this weren’t important. It’s about Annie.”

Even though her shouts seemed to be coming from a great distance, they were enough to snap him awake. “What about Annie?” he muttered groggily, digging around in the covers until he found the phone. “Talk to me. What about Annie?”

His heart was pounding in his chest as he considered all the terrible possibilities. An accident? Had those boys come back to the house and stirred up trouble? It had to be bad, for Dana Sue to break two years of silence to call him.

Dana Sue, who could talk as slow as molasses when she wanted to sweet-talk him into something wicked, could also manage to squeeze a ten-minute conversation into ten seconds when she was worked up. She was clearly very worked up. She was talking so fast he could barely pick up every fifth word.

“Hey, slow down, sugar,” he said. “You’re waking me out of a sound sleep. I can’t understand a word you’re saying.”

“It’s Annie!” she said, sounding hysterical. “I don’t care where the hell you are, Ronnie, or who you’re with, or what your priorities are these days. Your daughter needs you.”

That was all he had to hear. He could find out all the rest when he got there. With the phone clamped between his head and shoulder, he fished around in the pitch-dark room until he found the switch on the lamp beside his bed.

“I’ll be there in under an hour,” he promised, “but you’re going to have to tell me where you are.”

“At Regional Hospital,” she said, her voice catching on a sob.

His heart seemed to flat-out stop in his chest. “Baby, can you tell me what happened?”

“I don’t know. Not exactly, anyway. She had some girls over for the night. It was going to be just Sarah and Raylene, but then she decided to invite more. I’d told her that was okay. In fact, I encouraged it. It was all part of a plan, you see.”

“Sugar, you’re rambling,” he said. “Get to the point.”

“Right. Sorry. I’m just such a wreck.”

“It’s okay,” he soothed. “Just take a deep breath and tell me.”

For once she actually listened to him. He could hear her slow intake of breath, then a sigh.

“Feeling better?” he asked.

“Not really. Anyway, a little while ago one of the girls woke me up and said Annie had collapsed. Raylene was doing CPR on her when I got downstairs. I took over for what seemed like forever till the EMTs came.” Dana Sue paused, then gave a choked sound he didn’t even recognize. “I tried and tried, Ronnie, but I couldn’t wake her up.”

He was hopping on one foot, trying to pull his jeans on without letting go of the phone. “And now? Is she awake now?”

“No,” Dana Sue said. “At least, I don’t think so. I just got to the hospital. I wanted to call you before I went inside, but couldn’t get a signal for my cell phone till now.”

“It’s okay, baby. Everything’s going to be okay. It has to be. I’m on my way. Is there anybody there with you?”

“Maddie drove me over and Helen’s probably already inside.”

Now there was a confrontation he’d prefer to avoid. Those two hadn’t minced words when they’d raked him over the coals for what he’d done to Dana Sue. He knew, though, that they were exactly the support system Dana Sue needed right now. If he wanted her back, he was going to have to face them sooner or later, anyway. Maddie, at least, might be reasonable. Helen was bound to have her claws out, but so be it.

“Good,” he told Dana Sue. “And I’ll be there before you know it. I promise,” he added, knowing that his promises probably weren’t worth a hill of beans, but he didn’t know what else to say.

“Just hurry, please. I need to get inside and see if the doctors can tell me anything yet,” she said, and disconnected.

Ronnie was slower to disconnect. Well, there you go, he thought. Fate has just stepped in.

But if anything happened to his little girl, he didn’t even want to think about what the future might hold.

“Okay, I called him. Are you satisfied?” Dana Sue said to Maddie.

Her friend had stayed right by her side, almost as if she feared Dana Sue would renege on her promise to call Ronnie and tell him just how serious the situation was.

“Is he coming?” Maddie asked, following her into the E.R. waiting room, with its bustling activity, icy temperature and antiseptic smell.

“He says he is,” Dana Sue answered, not entirely sure how she felt about that. Ronnie had sounded genuinely distraught, and she had no reason to doubt that he was. She’d never questioned his commitment to their daughter, only to her. He’d stood up to Helen in court and insisted on having visitation rights. She knew how hard he’d tried to keep in touch with Annie. It must have killed him to be rejected again and again. Enough time had passed that she could almost feel sorry for him. Now, hearing his voice, needing his strength, made her remember too many things she’d been trying frantically to forget.

“It’s good that he’s coming,” Maddie said. “Annie needs both of you right now.”

“I need to see her,” Dana Sue said, heading to the desk to plead for permission to go into the cubicle where the doctors were working on her baby.

Even before she got there, Maddie intercepted her. “What you need to do is let the doctors do their job,” she said, guiding her to a seat away from the other families crowded into the waiting room. Only after she was satisfied that Dana Sue would stay put did she leave her alone long enough to let the nurse on duty know they were there.

Before Dana Sue could muster up the energy to make a desperate dash into the treatment area, Maddie was back, and then Helen came in with all the girls, explaining that she’d detoured to take one of them home.

“Any news?” she asked.

Dana Sue shook her head, then burst into tears. She turned away from the obviously terrified teens and buried her head on Maddie’s shoulder. “I don’t know how much longer I can bear this,” she whispered.

“I know it’s hard,” Maddie said. “Waiting is the worst part.”

“What if—?”

Maddie cut her off. “Don’t you dare say it,” she said sternly. “Only positive thoughts, you hear me?”

“Maddie’s right,” Helen said, though her normally composed face showed traces of the same gut-wrenching fear that was eating at Dana Sue. With no children of her own, Helen felt a special connection to Maddie’s children and to Annie. And now that Annie was in her teens, Helen loved to indulge her in shopping trips to Charleston.

Pushing her own fears aside, Dana Sue reached out and took Helen’s hand. Seeing her normally unflappable friend so deeply shaken was most disconcerting.

“Why don’t you two go to the chapel and say a prayer for Annie?” Maddie suggested. “I’ll stay here with the girls.”

Dana Sue regarded her with alarm. “But what if there’s news?”

“The chapel’s right down the hall. I’ll come get you the instant the doctors come out,” she promised.

Dana Sue glanced at Helen, noted the tears welling up in her eyes, and knew her friend was close to falling apart. She needed a distraction. They both did.

“Come on, Helen,” she said, getting to her feet. “Let’s go see if you can use your excellent powers of persuasion where they’ll really count.”

Helen gave her a wan smile. “God might give me a little more trouble than the typical jury,” she commented. “Especially since we haven’t been on the best of terms recently.”

“You and me both,” Dana Sue admitted. “Hopefully He’ll forgive us for our lapses.”

“He won’t take our sins out on Annie,” Helen said confidently. “I know that much.”

As they found their way to the tiny chapel, Dana Sue was already praying, asking God to heal her daughter and to give her another chance to be a better mother. Inside the quiet, dimly lit room, with the scent of burning candles filling the air, an amazing sense of serenity stole over her. She almost felt as if God had heard her silent plea and was enfolding her in His reassuring arms.

She and Helen sank onto a hard, wooden pew and looked up at the small stained-glass window behind the altar.

“Do you think He hears everyone who comes here?” she asked Helen.

“I don’t know,” Helen replied. “But tonight I really need to believe He does. I need to believe that He won’t let Annie suffer, that He’ll heal her and bring her back to us.” She glanced over at Dana Sue, her cheeks damp with tears. “I think I love that girl of yours as much as you do. We simply can’t lose her.”

The sense of peace that had come over her when they walked into the chapel brought Dana Sue comfort. “We won’t,” she said, with a level of confidence that astounded her. “We won’t lose her.”

Helen gave her a startled look. “You sound awfully sure.”

“I am. I’m not certain why I’m so positive, but I am.” She sighed. “If I’m right, things will be a lot different from here on out. No more sticking my head in the sand about her eating disorder. No more convincing myself that she’s eating when I know in my heart she’s not. Annie’s going to get whatever help she needs. She’s not going to leave this hospital till we know exactly what to do to make her well. I won’t fail her again.”

Helen regarded Dana Sue with dismay. “You didn’t fail her.”

“I did,” she said emphatically. “She’s here, isn’t she? Whose fault is that, if not mine? I saw the signs. We all did. But did I take her to see the doctor? No. Did I realize that she was really in crisis? No. What is wrong with me? Was I just too busy to see it?”

“Absolutely not.” Helen shook her head. “Like a lot of parents, you just didn’t want to believe what you were seeing. The choice was Annie’s, Dana Sue. She’s not five years old or even ten. She’s almost a grown woman.”

“But she’s still way too young to fully understand the consequences of her actions,” Dana Sue argued. “I knew, but I kept putting off doing anything about this, because I didn’t want to confront her and upset her with my suspicions. I wanted her to like me, instead of being the responsible parent she needed. If ever there was an occasion that called for tough love, this was it. I’ve read probably a hundred articles. I knew all the signs and symptoms of anorexia. I even knew the dangers, and yet I kept telling myself that it couldn’t happen to Annie, not to the girl with the sunny disposition who’d always embraced life. She was going out with her friends. She was active. I just didn’t believe we’d reached a crisis stage.”

“Well, that’s water under the bridge,” Helen said pragmatically. “We’ll all work together to fix this now.”

Dana Sue closed her eyes and tried to imagine Ronnie’s shock when he saw Annie for the first time in two years. Somehow she’d gotten used to seeing the thin shadow of the girl Annie had once been. Ronnie only had memories of an exuberant, healthy teenager with glowing skin, shiny hair and the first hint of a woman’s curves.

“What?” Helen asked, studying her worriedly.

“Ronnie’s going to be furious when he sees her,” Dana Sue said. “He’s going to wonder how on earth I let something like this happen to our daughter without trying to fix it. He’s going to want to talk to teachers and counselors about why they didn’t see it and intervene.”

“It’s not as if he was here to do his part,” Helen said heatedly. “So of course he’ll want to spread the blame around.”

Dana Sue regarded her with a wry expression. “He wasn’t here because that’s how I wanted it, remember? I was the one who insisted on limited visitation and then secretly rejoiced when Annie refused to see him at all.”

There was a faint flash of guilt in Helen’s eyes, but she continued her defense of Dana Sue’s actions. “Come on, hon. Don’t you dare let him off the hook and take all the blame on yourself.”

“I had full custody,” Dana Sue reminded her. “You fought for it and got it.”

“There wasn’t much of a fight,” Helen scoffed. “Ronnie was anxious to leave and get on with his life. He was only too eager to send support checks and forget all about her.”

Dana Sue didn’t usually cut Ronnie a lot of slack, but now she did. “You know better than that, Helen. Whatever his issues were with me, he loved Annie. He only agreed to limited visitation because you convinced him it would be best if Annie wasn’t pulled in two different directions. In the beginning he called almost every night, but Annie hung up on him. He invited her to visit him over and over again, but she turned him down. She told me. Lately, though, they’ve been in touch, probably even more than I know.”

“Maddie mentioned that,” Helen said. “Why are you defending him all of a sudden?”

“I’m not defending him. I’m just trying to prepare myself for how he’s going to react when he gets here.” She shuddered. “Something tells me all hell is going to break loose.”

In fact, there was a very good chance that Ronnie would take one look at his daughter and head straight for the courthouse to argue for a new custody arrangement, one that would give him the day-to-day responsibility for his daughter. Given tonight’s events, Dana Sue wasn’t sure she had the strength—or the right—to fight him.

Ronnie spotted Maddie the minute he walked into the hospital. She was in the midst of half a dozen teenage girls, but her gaze immediately clashed with his. To his surprise, her eyes held warmth and compassion.

She stood up and crossed the waiting room to where he stood uncertainly just inside the door. Places like this freaked him out under the best of conditions. He’d been a wreck the night Annie was born, and her birth had gone smoothly enough. Based on what Dana Sue had told him, it was anything but certain that tonight would turn out as happily.

“Ronnie, it’s good to see you,” Maddie said, surprising him again. “I just wish it were under different circumstances.”

“Me, too,” he said, risking a kiss on her cheek that would have come naturally a few years back. She’d always been his champion with Dana Sue, at least until he’d betrayed his wife. Then she’d turned into a protective best friend with little good to say to or about him. But she, at least, had apparently mellowed, even more than he’d dared to hope.

“How’s Annie? Is Dana Sue with her?”

Maddie shook her head. “We don’t know anything yet. Dana Sue’s in the chapel with Helen. Maybe you should go in there. Let her know you’ve arrived.”

“I think I’ll wait here,” he said, dreading this first meeting almost as much as he desired it. “Is she holding up okay? She was a mess when she called me.”

“She still is, unless the visit to the chapel has helped. Helen’s just as bad. She doesn’t often let anyone see her soft side, but she loves Annie as if she were her own.”

“She certainly fought like a mother hen to keep her away from me,” Ronnie said bitterly, then shrugged. “I was lucky to win visitation rights. Little did I know that Annie was so mad at me that she wouldn’t even speak to me for the better part of a year, much less come to visit.”

Maddie smiled. “Well, that’s in the past. She’s forgiven you, hasn’t she?”

“She’s speaking to me, at least,” he responded. “That’s something. I probably should have stayed right here in town so Annie couldn’t avoid me, but I thought maybe if I left the way Dana Sue wanted, both of them would start to miss me, maybe give me another chance.”

“How’d that work for you?” Maddie inquired dryly.

He smiled grimly. “You know the answer to that.”

Just then he spotted Dana Sue and Helen coming down the hall. His heart seemed to stop in his chest. Damn, she looked good, even with her hair a tangled mess, her Carolina Panthers T-shirt—no, his T-shirt, he realized with a pang—wrinkled and way too big, her feet jammed into an old pair of sneakers. Her complexion was too pale and her incredible deep-green eyes were shadowed by fear.

Ronnie started to go to her, but stopped himself and waited for her to come to him.

“Old patterns might not be the best on a night like this,” Maddie said in an undertone. “Reach out to her, Ronnie. She needs you. Whatever else has happened, that child in there belongs to both of you.”

It was all the encouragement he needed. He strode across the lobby, and almost before he knew it, Dana Sue was in his arms. Her whole body shaking with sobs; she clung to his neck.

“I’m sorry,” she said over and over.

Not sure what she had to be sorry for, he just held her tightly and tried to keep himself from bursting into tears, too.

“Shh, baby, it’s going to be okay,” he promised, though he knew no such thing. “Annie’s going to be fine.”

Before the words were out of his mouth, Dana Sue wrenched herself from his arms, as if she’d suddenly remembered how angry she was at him. Pushing away, she wrapped her arms around her middle and looked at the floor.

He regarded her with concern. “Dana Sue, what is it you’re not telling me?”

“Nothing,” she stated, but her guilty expression said otherwise.

“Have the doctors been out? Have they told you what’s going on yet?”

She shook her head.

Ronnie pressed her, sure she was keeping something from him. “But you know more than you’ve said, don’t you? What happened tonight?”

Dana Sue opened her mouth, but before she could speak, Helen was between them. “What is wrong with you?” she demanded. “She’s upset enough without you getting in her face.”

Despite his frustration, Ronnie backed off at once. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I just want to know what’s going on.”

“We all do,” Helen told him.

“Well, maybe I can get some answers you haven’t been able to get,” he said.

Ignoring Helen’s skeptical look and Dana Sue’s shattered expression, he stalked over to the desk and demanded to speak to a doctor.

“He’ll be out as soon as he’s able,” the nurse told him, her expression so grim that another wave of panic washed over him.

“Isn’t there something you can tell me?” he pleaded. “That’s my daughter in there.”

“I’m sorry,” the nurse said. “If I knew anything, I’d tell you.”

“How long will it be before the doctor comes out?”

“That depends on how your daughter is responding to treatment. She’s his first priority right now.”

“Of course,” Ronnie said, backing down, but wanting to scream in frustration.

Maddie appeared beside him. “Why don’t we go get coffee for everyone?” she suggested. “It’s going to be a long night.”

He started to snap that he didn’t want coffee, he wanted answers, but stopped himself before he could utter the words. They all wanted answers.

“Sure,” he said at last, then cast one last look at his ex-wife. “Maybe I should stay with Dana Sue.”

“Give her a little time,” Maddie said. “She’s dealing with a lot of conflicting emotions right now.”

“And I’m not?” he retorted sharply, then winced. “Sorry.”

She smiled. “You don’t need to apologize to me,” she told him. “But you might want to work on a really, really good one for Dana Sue. Despite what happened a few minutes ago when she threw herself into your arms, she’s still not in a forgiving mood.”