Brenna slept late the next morning, waking only when Molly pounded on her door.
"Come on, lazybones, I'm hungry."
Scowling, Brenna looked at the alarm clock. Noon, geez. Zoe sat patiently in front of the bedroom door. Brenna curled up and buried her head in her comforter.
"Okay, I'm coming in," Molly announced as she tried to open the bedroom door, pushing Zoe's bulk across the hardwood floor. "You make a good doorstop, dog."
Zoe didn't really care what Molly had to say; she just knew the door had finally opened and she trotted quickly downstairs, nails clicking.
"Are you getting up sometime today?"
"No," Brenna mumbled from under the covers.
"I'll give you a little longer. I'm sure you need your beauty sleep after last night, but then Zoe and I are going to pounce on you and rip your blankets off."
"You'll be sorry, I didn't wear my pajamas."
"Oh. Well, then maybe I'll call Adam over here to get you up."
"Molly!" Brenna popped her head out of the covers at that suggestion.
"Just a thought. I'll give you a little longer, nice person that I am, and I'll go have breakfast with your dog." With that, Molly closed the door and tromped downstairs.
For a brief moment before sleep took over again, Brenna remembered her dream and was surprised she didn't have a headache. But then again, lately real life was more of a nightmare than her dreams.
Molly came and pounced on her bed two hours later. "Okay, girl, I've been very patient. Adam called. Vince is awake, but Wendy was flown to Portland in the night. She's not worse though; it's just that she needs more critical care right now. And don't think I don't know what's going on here; I've seen you depressed before."
"I'm not depressed," Brenna mumbled.
"Right and I'm the Queen of England. Come on, let's go see Vince. I'm sure he needs some cheering up right now."
Hearing that, Brenna was able to clear some of the fog from her mind. "Fine. Get out so I can get dressed, you brat."
Molly grinned. "Flattery will get you everywhere. It might even get you some hot coffee."
That evening, they relaxed in the parlor, drinking hazelnut coffee and eating fresh Rice Krispy squares. Their visit to the hospital had done little to update the news. Vince was awake and wrought with guilt because he had been driving and Wendy remained in a coma. There was mention of doing surgery to relieve some of the pressure on her brain. The CT-scan had picked up a subdural hematoma and her vital signs and response to painful stimuli weren't as good as the doctors had hoped for.
Molly lounged on the velvet sofa, feet up, and stared out the window. At first Brenna, sitting in her rocker as usual, didn't notice and stared into the fire, occupied by her own thoughts. Then she realized something was off and looked up. "Penny for your thoughts."
Molly turned to her and smiled. "Sorry. Just thinking." Silence. Then, "Bren, you ever think about settling down and having children?"
"Well, you know I have. It hasn't seemed to be something you were interested in before." She waited for Molly to continue, but the room remained silent, save for the crackling of the fire and the gentle creak of the rocker.
"Molls? Does this have anything to do with Tony?"
Molly had been staring out the window again and turned back to her. Was there something different in her eyes?
"I just had a really good evening, up until the accident anyway. I mean really good, not because we were out doing something exciting or at a great movie, but because he's a genuinely nice guy. And interesting and intelligent on top of that. Once you get him talking, you forget the time." She smiled. "And he smells really good."
"And where do the children come in?"
"I don't know." Molly looked back out at the darkening sky. "I had a dream last night...Tony and I were visiting you and he was playing with this little boy in the back yard. But the boy looked more like me than you. There was a rope swing over the big branch on the apple tree out there and Tony was swinging him. I remember feeling really happy. Not like when I'm happy now, like when I come to see you or we do really well with a bad delivery. It was a completely content feeling...hard to explain."
"I've felt like that before," Brenna said.
"With Adam?"
"Yes."
"Do you still?" Molly asked.
Brenna looked into the flames and took a minute to answer. "I don't know if I can live with his lifestyle, Molls. I came here to get away from stress, not to bring it into my home. Adam's not stressful himself, quite the opposite, but his fire calls are and he's so committed to the department. I can't ask him to give that up."
"Don't you think you should give him that choice before breaking things off?"
"How could I ask him to choose? I won't do that to him."
Molly shook her head. "Don't underestimate him, Bren. I've seen the way he looks at you."
"And I saw the way he looked meeting that old man last night after saving his life. Would you want me to make you choose between the NICU or me?"
"Well, I can see your point...but you could be talking about the rest of your life here. I think you and Adam deserve each other. You've each had enough grief, especially you. I think the good effects he has on your life are worth the negative. No relationship is perfect."
Brenna had to laugh. "When did you become a marriage counselor?"
Molly smiled. "Tell me I'm not right."
"Okay, you're right. You usually are."
The phone rang.
"Aren't you going to get that?" Molly asked.
"No...you're the only one I want to talk to."
The answering machine picked up. "Brenna, are you there? I just got off work and was going to the hospital. If you get this in the next ten minutes, you can call if you want to go with me." Adam's voice sounded tired.
Molly looked at Brenna as the machine shut off. Big tears were rolling down her cheeks. "Oh, honey..." Molly went over and gave her a hug. "Come on, I think you need to go to bed. I'll go home in the morning."
She had just brought in the mail and was delighted to see a package from her mother. The little baby inside of her rolled and kicked as she sat down in the parlor to open it. Pulling back the wrapping paper, she found a volume of poetry and quotes on motherhood. Delighted, she opened it to the center and took a deep breath of the odor of new bookbinding and paper. Then she went back to the cover and started to read from the beginning. One quote she particularly liked: 'I begin to love this little creature, and to anticipate his birth as a fresh twist to a knot, which I do not wish to untie. Mary Wollstonecraft (1759-1797).' How remarkable that she should identify so closely with the feelings of a mother who herself was born nearly two centuries ago. This child who tumbled busily inside of her was tied to her by a golden thread and always would be. She wouldn't have it any other way. Smiling through a mist of tears, she turned the page. The next quote wasn't quite as cheery, but was as powerful. All the earth, though it were full of kind hearts, is but a desolation and a desert place to a mother when her only child is absent. Elizabeth Gaskell. (1810-1865).' Well, she wouldn't experience that for awhile, not until the child was old enough to go to school and to friends' houses to play. And maybe by then, he or she would have a brother or sister. She wondered how long it would be before their family was too large for this house.
Bang, bang...was someone pounding on the door? Brenna shook herself awake and heard something banging against the house. She could hear wind whistling around the eaves and when she went to the window, she could see in the front porch light a windstorm whipping itself into a frenzy and knew the rain was not far behind.
She went out into the hall and saw Molly standing in her doorway.
"What is that?" Molly asked, rubbing her eyes.
"Probably a shutter or something, I'll go check. You can go back to bed."
In the parlor, Brenna stood at the bottom of the stairs and listened. Oh, the screen door. She trotted across the cold wood floor and opened the back door
. As she reached for the screen door, it was nearly ripped out of her hand by the wind, but she managed to pull it closed and latched it. Brrr...
On her way back through the parlor, she poked at the fire and threw another log on. Running back upstairs, she dove into bed, once more shoving Zoe off her warm spot. As she burrowed in and settled down, she remembered her dream. Man, how devastating to have all those dreams shot to hell at once. She said into the dark, "Don't you think I have enough grief of my own without having yours dumped on me?"
She made the rounds of the dining room and parlor with her feather duster, sneezing occasionally. This was the first good housecleaning she'd done since she had gotten back on her feet. The town's people had provided food for her and Martin and had done some laundry, but housecleaning had fallen by the wayside. She guessed people thought she was odd. Maybe they didn't want to stay in her house long enough to help clean.
She came to the bookcase and her feather duster danced among the china pieces and seashells resting in front of the books. As she came to the shelf on which she kept her very favorites, her eyes fell on the volume on motherhood and her heart instantly chilled. For a long moment, she was immobilized and then her hand drew the book from the shelf, seemingly of its own volition. She sat on the couch and flipped through the book. Her eyes first fell on the quote by Gaskell. 'All the earth...is but a desolation...'. She slammed the book closed. Had this mother lost a child? She had thought the verse pertained to a child being around the corner, across town...not absent from this earth. As familiar hot tears welled yet again, she rushed out the back door and threw the book in the trash can, banging the lid closed.
Banging...now what was banging? The door...
Molly hollered through the bedroom door. "Do I have to get you up again, lazybones?"
"Nooo..." Brenna groaned. "I'll get up in a minute."
"Yeah, I've heard that before." Molly tromped down the stairs alone for the second morning in a row.
Soon the smell of coffee drifted up the stairs and through the floor vents and woke Brenna completely.
"Okay, fine." As she sat up, she pressed her hands to her temples. "Ow...time to try the new medicine. Stupid dreams."
Pushing her arms through the sleeves of her robe, she went to look out the window. No wind or rain, but the skies looked threatening and there were branches all over the yard and road. The storm was not through with them yet.
In the warm kitchen, Molly handed her some hot coffee in her favorite rose mug. A stack of pancakes was on the dining room table and they smelled wonderful.
"You've learned to cook much better since I moved away," Brenna noted.
"Had to, matter of survival."
"Bozo. Are you going to head back after breakfast? I don't know how soon the next storm will hit."
"Yeah, but I'll be back before you know it."
Brenna smiled. "Thanks for the warning."
Chapter 44