A Slice Of Heaven

Once again, he resolved to figure out some way to go back to Serenity before he missed out on even more memories.

Dana Sue was ninety percent certain that the car pulling away from her house as she drove up was filled with teenage boys. Cursing under her breath, she turned into the driveway. It was a good thing she’d decided to leave the restaurant half an hour earlier than usual. She was sure Annie must have calculated the boys’ departure based on her usual time for getting home.

When she walked into the kitchen, Sarah regarded her with a startled expression that bore a trace of guilt. With her basic honesty and pale, freckled complexion, she lied poorly and blushed easily. Her cheeks were a telltale rosy pink right now.

“Hi, Mrs. Sullivan,” she said with obviously forced cheer. “Great party. Thanks for letting us stay over.”

“Anytime,” Dana Sue said. “I’m glad Annie decided to make it a big party, instead of just asking you and Raylene. Everyone having fun?”

“Absolutely. We all brought over some CDs and we’ve been dancing. We’ll probably watch a DVD after a while. Annie says you guys have a whole bunch of chick flicks.”

“Our favorites,” Dana Sue confirmed. “Is there enough food?”

“Plenty,” Sarah confirmed. “I can’t remember the last time I stuffed myself with pizza, and those brownies you brought home from the restaurant are fabulous. I’ve had two.”

Dana Sue fought the urge to ask whether Annie had indulged in either the pizza or the brownies. Sarah took it out of her hands.

“You want to know if Annie’s had any, don’t you?” she asked.

Dana Sue nodded. “You know why it matters, don’t you, Sarah? If it weren’t so important, I would never ask you to rat on her. I’m afraid she’s in real trouble.”

“I know. I worry about her, too,” Sarah admitted in a low voice. “I think she’s—”

“Sarah, what’s taking so long?” Annie called out, walking into the kitchen. When she spotted the two of them together, her eyes immediately narrowed in suspicion. “Hi, Mom. You’re early. How come?”

“Erik said he could handle things, so I decided to make an early night of it,” Dana Sue said, disappointed that Annie’s untimely interruption had kept Sarah from answering her question. She forced a smile. “Having fun, baby?”

“We’re having a great time, aren’t we, Sarah?”

“The best,” she confirmed, avoiding Dana Sue’s eyes.

“You’re not going to hang out with us, are you?” Annie demanded.

“Of course not,” Dana Sue said, noting her daughter’s flushed cheeks and wondering if that was due to excitement or guilt about the boys who’d been there. “I’m heading upstairs to bed.”

Annie nodded. “Okay, then. Sarah, I’ll help you grab those sodas. Everybody’s hot from dancing.”

Dana Sue waited while the girls took half a dozen cans of diet soda and bottled water from the refrigerator. As they left the room, Sarah glanced back and gave a subtle shake of her head to say that Annie hadn’t been eating along with everyone else. Dana Sue felt like sitting down at the kitchen table and crying.

She’d wanted so badly to believe that all her instincts were wrong, that Annie wasn’t anorexic, after all. She’d watched her so closely for the past year, redoubling her efforts after that fainting spell at Maddie’s reception. But obviously Annie was more clever at hiding her eating disorder than Dana Sue was at detecting it. She could blame it on her schedule, being away from home for too many meals, but she’d tried to supervise Annie’s diet, she really had. She’d insisted she come by the restaurant for dinner. She’d packed nutritious lunches. But the honest-to-God truth was she hadn’t been there to see that every bite went into her daughter’s mouth. As for the obvious signs that Annie was in crisis, she’d obviously been in deep denial.

No more, though. They were going to have to confront this head-on. It was time. Past time. Add in the fact that Annie had apparently had boys over in direct defiance of Dana Sue’s instructions, and tomorrow was going to be a tough day. She and her daughter were going to have a heart-to-heart, and Annie wasn’t going to like the outcome—a visit to Doc Marshall’s office and then being grounded for a month—one bit.

With the music downstairs playing at a deafening volume, Dana Sue finally managed to fall into a restless, troubled sleep around two in the morning. She’d barely closed her eyes, it seemed, when someone started frantically shaking her.

“Mrs. Sullivan, wake up!” Sarah commanded, sounding panicked.

Dana Sue’s eyes snapped open. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Annie,” the girl said, tears streaking down her face. “She’s passed out and we can’t wake her up. Hurry, please.”

Dana Sue tore down the stairs with the sobbing Sarah on her heels. The other girls were kneeling around a prostrate Annie.

“I don’t think she’s breathing,” Raylene said, looking up at Dana Sue with wide eyes. “I’ve been giving her CPR, just the way we learned to in health class.”

“Move,” Dana Sue said, drawing on some inner reserve of calm, even though she was terrified. “Someone call 911, okay?”

“I already have,” one of the girls said, sounding scared.

“Thanks. Keep an eye out for them, please?” Dana Sue said, focusing on Annie’s pale face. Her lips were turning blue and she was still. So damn still. Kneeling beside her, Dana Sue began doing chest compressions as she’d been taught in her own CPR classes, then trying to force breath into her lungs. The girls stood around in stricken silence, holding hands, their faces damp with tears.

Time seemed to stand still as Dana Sue tried desperately to breathe life back into her daughter. She was only dimly aware of the sirens when the ambulance arrived. Then the EMTs were there, forcing her aside, taking over, talking in a code she didn’t understand as they barked information about resting heart rate and other vital signs into a cell phone that apparently linked them to the emergency room. Sarah slipped up beside Dana Sue and clung to her hand.

“She’s going to be okay,” Sarah whispered. “She’s going to be okay.”

Dana Sue squeezed her hand. “Of course she is,” she agreed, though she was certain of no such thing.

Raylene approached. “I called Mrs. Maddox,” she said. “Is that okay? She said she’d phone Ms. Decatur and have her come by and pick us up. Mrs. Maddox is coming straight here to go with you to the hospital.”

Dana Sue gave Raylene a grateful look. “You did exactly the right thing,” she told her, impressed by the girl’s ability to act so quickly in a crisis. She had a cool head and good instincts. “Thank you.”

“We want to go to the hospital with you,” Sarah said. “Can we do that? Our folks aren’t expecting us home, anyway. Please, Mrs. Sullivan. Ms. Decatur can take us there just as easily as she can take us home.”

Dana Sue knew what it was like to wait for information when someone was seriously ill. She’d waited all alone in a hospital emergency room when her mother had been taken in that last time. She’d been only a few years older than these girls were now. Annie had been little more than a toddler, and Ronnie had stayed home with her. Maddie and Helen had rushed over the second Dana Sue had called them, but the wait for them and for news had seemed interminable. Maybe it would be easier for Annie’s friends to wait together at the hospital, where they would have news as soon as it was available.

“Okay,” she said at last. “But as soon as it’s morning, I want you to call your folks and tell them where you are, okay? Then it will be up to them whether you go home or stay.”

“I’m sure Annie will be fine by then,” Sarah said staunchly.

“Of course she will be,” Raylene agreed.

The next half hour was a blur as the EMTs loaded Annie, who was breathing now, but still unconscious, into the ambulance. Helen briskly piled the girls into her car, and Maddie saw to it that Dana Sue pulled herself together, then wrapped an arm around her waist and guided her into her car. She still wore Ronnie’s shirt, but had at least added a respectable pair of jeans.

“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.