Kitabı oku: «Grievous Sin», sayfa 2

“She’s holding, but she’s lost some blood, Mr. Decker. We already gave her a pint of her own blood. She was smart enough to donate autologously before she went into labor. But she’s going to need more—another couple of pints. Before we start with the banks, we were hoping she might have a blood relative who can donate. Matched relatives are always your best bet for good takes on transfusions.”

“Her parents are here.”

“Then let’s go test them.”

Decker started to walk, but stumbled. This time it was Dr. Wallace who caught his arm. “Do you need to sit?”

“No.” Decker cursed his weakness and commanded his legs to be steady. “She has her sons out there. I don’t want to scare them.”

“Frankly, this could scare them.”

“It’s bad?”

“Don’t panic, Mr. Decker, I just don’t have anything definitive to tell you right now. Uncertainty is very scary for little kids. For you, too. But Dr. Hendricks is the best. And he’s as cool as a cucumber, in total control.”

Decker felt his throat clog. He picked up his pace, trying to keep step with Dr. Wallace. “What should I do about my boys? They’re perceptive.”

“How about if I talk to the parents, and you occupy your boys?”

“They’re going to want to know what’s going on. What do I say?” Decker ran his hands over his face. “God, I can’t believe …”

“She’s in very good hands.”

“If I hear that one more time, I’m going to throw up! How serious is her condition?”

“It’s serious.”

“Life-threatening?”

“It’s serious. Let’s leave it at that for now.”

“God, this is just a nightmare.” He heard his voice crack. “Is this unusual?”

“Not as unusual as you might think.”

They had reached the lobby. As luck would have it, the group was all there. Stefan had returned with the boys from the gift shop. Cindy and Magda were deep in conversation. Marge was leaning against the wall next to the complimentary coffeepot. She was the first to notice and pointed the others in his direction. Again he was met with expectant faces. But this time there were no smiles. Decker took Dr. Wallace over to the group.

“She need …” Again his throat swelled. “She could use some blood from a relative.”

Slowly, Rina’s parents rose. “Where do we go?” Stefan asked calmly.

“Come, I’ll take you,” Dr. Wallace said.

Sammy spoke up. “I want to come.”

Dr. Wallace said, “You have to be seventeen to donate blood.”

“I am seventeen,” Sammy persisted. “I’m small for my age. I already have a complex. Don’t make it worse.”

“I want to come, too,” Jake piped in.

“Boys, just stay here,” Decker said weakly.

Sammy yelled, “I want to help my mother, damn it!”

Decker was taken aback by the force of Sammy’s voice. Magda took him under the crook of her arm. “He can come with us, no?”

Dr. Wallace sighed. “You seem big enough. Won’t hurt to give you a pinprick.” She looked at Cindy.

Decker said, “She’s my daughter … Rina’s stepdaughter … not a blood relative.”

Dr. Wallace said, “So you’ll watch your pop for me?”

Cindy nodded.

“Come along. Let’s go help your mom.” Dr. Wallace started her speed walk. In the distance, Decker heard her ask what the boys’ names were. He couldn’t hear if they answered her. Either they were too far away or their voices were too weak.

Slowly, Decker lowered himself onto the couch. Marge sat at his right, Cindy at his left. She held his arm and kissed his bicep. Decker turned to her and tried out a smile.

“It’ll be okay, Dad,” she said. “Do you need anything?”

His initial reaction was nothing, but then he gave the matter some thought. “Princess, would you mind getting me something to eat? I think there’s a vending machine with fruit on the first floor. How about an apple and a banana?”

“Got it.” Cindy stood. “Do you want anything, Marge?”

“An apple sounds great.”

“On the double.”

Cindy did a jog to the elevator. When she was out of sight, Decker slumped back on the couch and closed his eyes.

“Do you want some coffee, Pete?” Marge asked.

“Nothing, thanks.”

“What did the doctor say?”

“It’s serious, Margie … I’m scared.”

He swabbed his wet cheeks with his fingers. She hugged his shoulder but didn’t speak. Decker was grateful for the silence.

3

It wasn’t as if she was narcissistic or anything as psychologically disturbed as that. It was just that hers was a body worth looking at. Like admiring a work of art.

Because that was what she was—a work of art.

Stripped down naked, sweat glistening from smooth, bronzed skin, she regarded herself in the mirror. Perfect round, pronounced breasts because of the developed pecs underneath. The just rewards of really hard work. She’d gained shape without gaining an ounce of fat. She patted her flat abdomen, did a couple of arm rolls, then ran through a couple of poses—all sleek, defined muscle.

Definitely, she had developed the definition—the cut!

She swiped her damp body with a thick white Turkish towel, then wrapped it around her trunk, eyes never leaving the mirror. Short wisps of downy-fine facial hair ran down her cheek parallel to her ear—peach-fuzz sideburns. It went with the territory. At least it was blond. Good thing, because her coloring was naturally dark.

She unclipped her hair, and black satin fell to her shoulders.

Exotic. That’s what everyone had said about her. She was exotic-looking.

Again she studied her reflection in the silver glass.

In only two years, she had turned from a nothing into a something. From a tall, shapeless form to a Greek sculpture. But she was so much more than just a perfect body. With the discipline had come the control—real control. Not the artificial kind that comes when the mind is altered by chemicals. Drugs that hide but don’t cure. Now she was in control. Her mind was as disciplined as an army general’s, as meticulously organized as a dictionary. She was master of her destiny. There was nothing she couldn’t conquer, nothing she couldn’t overcome.

Best of all, the voices had stopped.

The door opened and closed. In the mirror, she saw him coming at her. This time it was Eric. He was naked, his biceps like veined footballs. He duck-walked to her, his thighs so buffed they had rubbed the inner skin raw.

She didn’t bother to turn around, just dropped on all fours.

He stood behind her, then dropped to his knees and slapped her rear.

“Are you ready for it, babe?”

“Ready, willing, and able.”

“You really want it?”

“I really want it.”

“Say it again.”

“I really want it!”

“Say it with conviction!” Again Eric slapped her ass, his leathery hand stinging her hide. “I want to hear conviction!”

She smiled. She liked Eric. He was gentle.

“I said I really, really want it!”

“Get mean, Tandy! I want to hear mean!”

“I really, really want it! Give it to me now, or I’ll blow your toes off!”

Eric laughed. “Blow my toes off?”

“One! At! A! Time!” she yelled. “Give it to me, Eric!”

“I can’t hear you!”

“Give it to me now!”

“Still can’t hear you!”

“Give it to me!” she screamed, feeling the heat in her face.

“Still, still can’t hear you!”

“GIVE IT TO ME, DAMN IT! GIVE IT TO ME, NOW!”

“Atta girl, babe! Now that’s conviction!”

She closed her eyes, then held her breath until she felt the quick thrust of the needle in her butt. Slowly, she blew out air, feeling the surge in her body.

In control.

She grinned.

Life was good!

4

It tasted like wet sand. Decker didn’t know if it was the apple itself or his taste buds, but he ate it just to be polite. Cindy was worried about him, so he wanted to exhibit some normal behavior. As if doing routine things might suddenly turn the ordeal into something routine. His daughter and partner watched him chew. He became aware of the workings of his jaw, and it made his teeth hurt. He swallowed dryly and took his daughter’s hand.

“Thanks, princess.”

Marge stood. “You sit. I’ll get you some coffee.”

Decker nodded. Passivity was a role he seldom played, but he couldn’t summon enough strength to think on his own.

“This is the worst part, Daddy. The waiting.” Cindy hesitated a beat. “Maybe I should check to see if the baby’s been assigned to a nursery yet?”

“That would be great.”

“I’ll be back in a minute.”

“Thanks, sweetheart.”

Marge came back with the coffee.

“She’s a good kid, your daughter.”

“The best.”

“How was it having her for the summer?”

“Terrific. I think being needed has done wonders for her self-confidence. She’s been an enormous help to Rina these past couple of weeks … drove the boys all around. I’ll be sorry to see her leave.”

“How did she like her first year away?”

“She liked Columbia enough to go back. I think she enjoyed herself.”

“The typical college experience, huh?”

“Yeah, complete with bouts of exhilaration and depression—usually one right after the other.”

“Does she have a major?”

“Not yet. But she mentioned something about criminal sciences or whatever they call it back there.”

“Wonder where that came from?”

“As long as it’s not direct fieldwork, I’m all for it.”

“Sexist.”

“Parentist. I wouldn’t want my boys to be cops, either.” He ran his hand over his face. “God, this is just hell! What’s keeping the others? How much blood could Rina possibly need? Maybe I should look for them.”

He started to rise, but Marge pushed him back.

“Don’t spin your wheels, Pete. Stay here in case someone has some news for you.”

“I can’t believe this is happening.” Decker’s stomach juices were an ocean of nausea. “What’s taking them so goddamn long?”

He bounced up and began to pace. Marge didn’t try to stop him. At loose ends herself, she picked up a hospital magazine on parenting and absently flipped through the pages. All these pictures of smiling parents holding their newborn tykes. It made her feel very old and very single. She read an article on infant jaundice, learned more about the liver and bilirubin then she ever wanted to know. She had just about read the periodical cover to cover when Cindy returned, sporting a wide grin. Pete didn’t even notice her. Too busy flattening the carpet nap.

“What’s up, kiddo?” Marge asked.

“God, she’s huge!”

Decker stared at Cindy. It took him a moment to realize where he was. “Who’s huge?”

“Your daughter, Daddy. She’s at least twice the size of any of the other kids in the nursery. And she’s definitely the most alert—eyes wide open. You want to see her?”

“Now that sounds like a good idea,” Marge said.

Decker shook his head. “I don’t want the others to come back and find me gone.”

“So I’ll wait here,” Marge said.

Decker shook his head. “I just can’t … not now. Not … feeling the way I do.”

“I understand, Daddy. I just wanted you to know how great she’s doing.”

Decker felt tears in his eyes and rubbed them away. “Thank you, princess. I appreciate it.”

Cindy stuck her hands in the back pockets of her jeans. “You want to see her, Marge? She’s in Nursery J.”

“I think I should wait with your dad.”

“No, go ahead, Marge,” Decker said. “Tell me she’s beautiful.”

“She is beautiful,” Cindy said.

“No, Pete, I’ll wait with you,” Marge said. “Watch you run a track in the carpet.”

“It’s better than punching out walls,” Decker said.

“Infinitely,” Marge said.

Cindy tapped her foot. “Well, if I’m not needed, maybe I’ll go back and visit the baby again. If the nurse’ll let me near her. She’s real weird!”

“In what way?” Marge asked.

“Actually, it was sort of my fault. I was so excited to see the baby. She’s right in the front of the window. I was playing with her, tapping on the glass. Then all of a sudden she started crying … all alone.” Cindy pouted. “So I went inside the nursery and asked if like, maybe someone could pick her up. For no reason, the nurse started screaming at me that she wasn’t anyone’s personal nanny, and if I didn’t leave instantly, I was going to infect all the babies. She made me feel like Typhoid Cindy. I wasn’t even near them!”

“Nurses sometimes get a little territorial,” Marge said.

“Yeah, you should have heard her rant when I asked if I could hold my sister. She started interrogating me: Just who was I, and what was my business with the baby anyway?”

“They have to be cautious, Cindy.”

“Yeah, I know. That’s why I figured if Dad came and said I was okay …” Cindy shrugged. “It’s not the right time. I’ll just go back and play with her through the window … if Marie doesn’t boot me away.”

“Marie’s the nurse?”

“Ms. Prune Face in white.”

Decker came over to them. “Ms. Prune Face in white?”

Cindy said, “The nurse who gave me a hard time about holding my sister.”

“What?” Decker said. “When was this?”

“Just a moment ago.”

“Why’d she give you a hard time?”

“Because she’s a weirdo.”

Marge said, “Cindy went into the nursery without being suited up. The nurse might have overreacted a little.”

“I wasn’t in the actual part where the babies were.”

“Cindy, please don’t make waves,” Decker said. “Not now, hon, okay?”

Cindy nodded and kissed her father’s cheek. “You really should see your new daughter, Daddy. She’s beautiful—all pink and bundled. And she has a loud, healthy cry. I could hear it through the window.”

“Wonderful,” Marge muttered.

“Keep an eye on her for me,” Decker said. “Just …”

“I know,” Cindy said. “I’ll keep it muzzled until we’re all back to normal. I can swim with that.”

Magda was carrying an armload of cellophane-wrapped snacks. Sammy was sandwiched between his brother and grandfather, his head resting against the old man’s side. Stefan had his arm around Sam’s waist. Sam’s complexion was pasty; his gait was slow and clumsy. Decker ran over and swooped the boy in his arms.

“Good Lord, what’s wrong?”

“I alone gave blood,” Sammy whispered. “That’s because I’m a manly, manly man.”

Decker smiled. Since his bar mitzvah, whenever there was a task requiring some physical strength, Sammy would always volunteer to do it, claiming that now he was a manly man. Decker placed his stepson on the couch.

“If you’re Dracula, I already gave at the office,” Sammy said.

“Very funny.” Decker brushed chestnut-colored bangs off the boy’s forehead. “What took you so long?”

“They wouldn’t let him go for a half hour,” Stefan said. “I think they really didn’t believe he was seventeen.”

“He isn’t seventeen!” Decker heard the raw anxiety in his voice. “Why’d you let him do it?”

“They had no choice,” Sammy said. “I insisted.”

“Nu, the boy has a mind of his own,” Stefan said.

“He needs to eat things with sugar, Akiva,” said Magda. “He don’t drink. Tell him to drink.”

Decker propped up his son’s head. “Drink, Sammy.”

“I’m full.”

“Then eat cookie,” Magda insisted.

“It’s not kosher,” Sammy pronounced.

“It’s made with vegetable shortening—”

“It doesn’t have hasgacha.”

Decker said, “I don’t care if it’s made out of pig’s feet, Sam, eat the damn cookie! Got it?”

“Yes, sir.” Sammy took the cookie and began to nibble on the edge. His face had suddenly regained a smidgen of color, and he seemed calm. Decker wondered if his sudden stern command had given the kid a sense that he was in control.

Stefan said, “We buy a pack of cards. Jake and I play poker. You want me to deal you in a round?”

“No thanks, Stefan,” Decker said.

“Then just we two play.” The old man looked at Jake. “What do we use for betting, Yonkie? I have box of Raisinettes.”

“Raisinettes are fine, Opah,” Jake answered back.

Magda said, “You don’t hear anything, Akiva?”

Decker shook his head.

“Where’s Cindy?”

“She went to visit the baby,” Marge said.

“The baby’s in the nursery?” Magda said.

“Yeah. Would you like me to take you there?”

“That would be nice.”

Marge smiled to herself. Mrs. Elias’s words came out Tat vood be nice. Her accent, along with the coiffed blue-black hair, heavy gold rings, and expensive clothes, suggested something untouchable. Perhaps under other circumstances, the woman would be aloof. But now she exuded an unmistakable warmth.

“Let’s go,” Marge said.

Magda said, “You feed Sammy, Akiva. Make sure he drinks.”

Decker said he would, noticing a gleam in his mother-in-law’s eyes. She was excited about the baby, and that was good. But his moment of relative quiescence was cut short by a figure draped in surgical greens coming through the double doors. The man’s step was quick and determined. His feet shuffled against the carpet. He threw his hand behind his neck and undid his mask as he walked. Decker recognized Dr. Hendricks and felt his knees buckle. Marge grabbed his arm.

“Sit down, Pete. It’s okay. She’s okay. I can see it in his eyes.”

The doctor was close enough to have heard her and seemed surprised by her confidence. “Yes, she’s going to be fine.”

The full report was interrupted by a host of baruch Hashems and mazel tovs, by hugs and tears and words of encouragement. The doctor waited until the excitement died down and then invited them to sit. The formality of his manner made Decker take note.

“What is it?” he asked.

Hendricks said, “Rina lost blood and is still heavily sedated—”

“When can I see her?” Decker broke in.

“When she’s out of Recovery. But she’s going to be there for a while. I’m going to put her in an ICU until I feel she’s strong enough and her blood count is elevated. But I’m extremely pleased. She’s doing remarkably, considering.” Hendricks looked at Sammy. “Last time I saw you in the flesh, you were six weeks old. I’d say there’s been a little growth since then. Maybe not seventeen years’ worth …”

Sammy smiled. Hendricks placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “You did a great service for your mother. She has an unusual blood type, and yours was as perfect a match as they come. You always hope your kids’ll be there for you, and, my boy, you sure were. You really should be proud of yourself.”

The boy looked at his lap and nodded gravely. Hendricks smiled at Jake. “And you’ve changed a bit, too. Thanks for helping out, too, Jacob.”

The younger boy smiled back. Hendricks looked at the clock, then at Mr. and Mrs. Elias. “It’s almost ten. Visiting hours are just about over, but I’m sure if you’re quick, you can sneak in a peek at that beautiful granddaughter of yours. Then I want you all to go home and relax.”

“I can’t leave,” Decker said.

Hendricks frowned. “I won’t press you, Sergeant. I know you’re going to want to see Rina as soon as she comes out. But you really should try to rest.” To Mrs. Elias he said, “Take the boys home and get some sleep. You’re going to need to relieve him in the morning.”

“I will, Doctor.” Magda paused. “She’s really okay, my daughter?”

Dr. Hendricks took her hand and held it. “She’s really okay.”

“We just love her …”

Tears formed in Magda’s eyes. Stefan took his wife’s hand, squeezed it, then turned to Decker. “You come see your baby, Akiva. Just for a moment.”

“Go, Sergeant,” Hendricks said. “You could use a little joy.”

Slowly, Decker stood and blew out air. He didn’t want to go. What he wanted more than anything else was to see Rina. He wanted to hold her hand and kiss her long, slender fingers. He wanted to tell her how much he loved her. He didn’t want to be ecstatic while she was suffering. He didn’t want to do anything without her. Because nothing was as joyous as when they shared the moment together. But he decided to go see his daughter anyway. Because a little joy was better than none.

5

Cindy wiggled her fingers at the pink bundle with the saucer eyes, thinking the witch had purposely put the baby all the way in back. But it didn’t matter. Baby Girl Decker was so big and alert, she’d be visible wherever she was. The two layettes that abutted hers belonged to Baby Girl Rodriguez and Spencer Dole. BG Rodriguez was a teeny little thing with a head no bigger than a navel orange. She had thick black hair and wrinkled skin. Spencer had a fat, squat face and howled constantly. But BG Decker seemed unbothered by her roommates’ perplexities, preferring to drool on her paper bedsheet while trying to suck her thumb.

The nursery was a full house tonight—layettes filled with whites, blacks, Hispanics, and one Asian named Baby Boy Yamata who never cried. Rows of innocent babies out of Central Casting. Baby Girl Decker was living in a veritable pint-sized UN. A moment passed, then Baby Girl Jackson, representing the African-American contingent, opened a toothless mouth and let out a silent wail.

Nose to the glass, Cindy made silly faces at her sister, wishing she could hold her, hoping that Nurse Marie Bellson would go off shift and let her alone. The woman was intimidating, lean with knobby, rakelike fingers. Bellson was a deciduous tree in the wintertime—thin and barren. She had a way of making you feel guilty even if you hadn’t done anything.

Cindy’s eyes moved to the wall clock—visiting hours were almost over. She knew she’d have to leave any minute. As if to prove herself correct, she saw Bellson come out of the nursery. The woman was pure no-nonsense. She wore little makeup, and practical jewelry—a class ring, two gold stud earrings and a gold cross above her uniform breast pocket. She had attractive eyes, though—bright green spotted with brown. They’d be even prettier if they didn’t look so angry. Cindy put on her nicest smile.

“One more minute?”

Bellson shook her head. “You’re getting too attached to the baby. You’re her sister, not her mother.” She flicked her wrist. “Visiting hours are officially over. Good night.”

Cindy sighed, looked down the hallway, then broke into a grin. “That’s my father and my stepmother’s family.”

Bellson put her hands on her hips and shook her head again. Cindy jogged down the corridor and gave her father a bear hug.

“Rina’s okay?”

Decker linked arms with his daughter. “She’s out of surgery. Sammy gave her a pint of blood, God bless him.”

“But everything’s okay?”

“Not out of the woods yet, but I feel a lot better than I did an hour ago.”

“You look beat, Dad. You need rest.”

Decker knew she was right, but that was immaterial. He wasn’t going anywhere until he saw Rina. “Are you our personal escort?”

“Absolutely, if Bellson doesn’t kick us out. She just told me to leave.” Cindy frowned. “Here comes the Wicked Witch of the West now.”

A thin woman in white approached them. She had surface wrinkles trailing down the corners of her eyes and mouth and a set of wavy lines across her forehead—the kind of wrinkles that usually come from overtanning, except this woman held a proper Victorian pallor. Her hair was clean, but the color was dingy—pipewater from old plumbing. Her eyes were her saving grace—Kelly green sprinkled with coffee brown. They were clear and perceptive. She wasn’t pretty, but she managed to strike an attractive pose. Decker put her age at around forty. She held out her hand, and Decker took it.

“How is your wife, Mr. Decker?” Bellson asked.

“She’s still in Recovery.”

The RN nodded. “We’ve got the best post-op care in the country. So try not to worry. I’ll let you folks take a quick peek at the baby before I boot you out. Not my idea, but the babies are being transferred from the nurseries to their mothers for the ten o’clock feeding. We don’t like outside people in the wings while we’re wheeling them down the foyers. Who knows what kind of bugs they’re harboring.”

Magda said, “We be quick.”

“Come.” Bellson’s walk was brisk. “You’re the grandma? You look too young.” She stopped at the glass window. “She’s all the way in back. I’ll put her in front for you.”

Cindy watched Bellson disappear behind the nursery doors, amazed by the woman’s transformation. From sneers to smiles, she’d become all-accommodating. It made Cindy feel funny. Why was Bellson so mean to her and nice to everyone else? She shrugged. At least Dad was happy. His smile was genuine—first one she’d seen tonight. She went over and leaned her head against his arm. Together, they watched Bellson—who had donned a blue paper gown, gloves, and a face mask—rearrange the layettes until BG Decker was in front. Then the nurse picked her up and gave them a front view of the bundle. Cindy noticed that her father was holding back tears. He’d always been good at damming his emotions. It was one of the reasons why tonight seemed surreal. She had never seen him scared.

She said, “She looks like you, Daddy.”

“No, no, no,” Magda said, rapping gently on the glass. “She look like Ginny, but she has Akiva’s coloring—the red hair and fair skin.”

“Poor kid,” Decker said. “Another lobster in the sun.”

“Suntanning isn’t good for you anyway, Daddy,” Cindy said. “And if that’s not a cheap rationalization …”

“Grandma’s right,” Marge said. “She does look like Rina.”

“Of course she does,” Magda announced. “I’m good at faces. Nu, Stefan, tell them.”

“She’s good at the faces,” her husband stated.

Decker turned to his sons. “What do you think?”

“I think she’s funny-looking,” Jake said. “She’s all red.”

Magda gently hit his arm. “You were red when you were born.”

“No, no, no,” Stefan said. “Yonkie was never red. Shmuli was red.”

Decker regarded his elder stepson, still pale but steady on his feet. He seemed lost, his eyes unfocused. “Are you okay, Sam?”

“Huh?”

Decker put his arm around the boy. “What are you thinking about?”

“I wish I could see Eema. You know … just see her.”

“Boy, I know how you feel.”

“She’ll be okay, won’t she?”

“Doc assures me she’ll be fine. I believe him, Sammy.”

“When do you think you’ll see her?”

“I don’t know, Sammy. Soon, I hope.”

“Will you call us after you see her?”

“Depends on the time.” Decker hugged his shoulder gently. “I’m not going to call you at three in the morning.”

“No, you call us, Akiva,” his mother-in-law said. “I don’t sleep much tonight anyway. You call us as soon as you see Ginny. I want to know.” She wiped her eyes. “Please, you call.”

“I’ll call.”

“Maybe you call Rav Schulman in the morning,” Stefan suggested. “Ginny would want you to call him.”

Decker nodded, thinking it was a good idea. Over the years, the old rabbi had become more than Decker’s teacher, had become even more than a spiritual adviser. More than anything, Rav Schulman had become a wise and treasured friend. Decker could certainly use a little wisdom now. He watched Marie Bellson resettle his daughter back in the layette. To Cindy, he said, “The nurse seems okay.”

“To you.” Cindy shrugged. “Maybe I just rubbed her the wrong way. I didn’t mean anything. But sometimes I guess I get a little overexuberant.”

“Thanks for your help, Cindy.”

“You like your daughter?”

“I like both my daughters.”

Cindy stepped on her tiptoes and kissed her father’s cheek.

Nurse Bellson came back and placed her hands on her hips. “I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to ask you all to leave. I’ve got to get these babies to their mothers. We don’t want any hungry infants.”

“Who’s going to feed our baby?” Cindy asked.

Decker noticed an immediate narrowing of Bellson’s eyes. The expression was subtle and fleeting, but it was strong enough to set his antennae quivering.

“I’m going to feed her personally just as soon as I finish wheeling the babies to their mothers,” Bellson said.

“Can I feed her?” Cindy asked. “I’ll gown up. Please?”

Decker cut in before Bellson could speak. “I think it would be a good idea if Cindy … I know my wife would like it. If you wouldn’t mind, Marie. I don’t want to upset any rules, but …”

Decker watched Bellson rock on her feet.

“It’s unusual,” she said.

“I promise I won’t get in your way,” Cindy said.

“That’d be a first,” Bellson muttered under her breath. Then she smiled. “I suppose I could allow it this one time. Go inside the nursery, but don’t go past the yellow line. I’ll suit you up in a minute.”

“Thank you very much, Marie,” Decker said. “I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome.” Marie checked her watch again.

Decker said, “We’re leaving. Thanks.”

Marge hugged Decker. “Baby is just beautiful, Pete. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Thanks for coming down, Margie. Get some sleep. Some people have to work in the morning.”

“Three weeks to go, then it’s big time.” Marge gave him a quick salute. “See you in Homicide, big guy.”

“You call us, Akiva, when you see Ginny,” Magda reminded him. “I just want you to tell me she’s okay.”

“I promise, Magda.”

Decker knelt and drew his sons near him. “I want you guys to get some sleep. It’s been a long, torturous day, and we all need our rest.”

They nodded weakly. It was late, and anxiety had sapped their strength.

“Where you go now, Akiva?” Stefan asked.

“Back to the OB lobby. They promised they’d tell me as soon as Rina was out of Recovery. Come on, I’ll walk you to the elevators. Cindy, you’re staying here, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Tell me when you’re done feeding the baby. Don’t you dare walk to your car by yourself.”

“I know, I know—”

“Don’t shine me on, Cynthia. I’m serious.”

“I promise I’ll check in with you.”

“Good.”

“Daddy?”

“What?”

“Does the baby have a name?”

“I think Rina wanted to wait until we named her in synagogue.”

Cindy hesitated. “It just might be nice to call her something. But I don’t want to ruin your tradition.”

Decker thought a moment. “I think Rina mentioned something about naming her Channa Shoshana—Hannah Rose in English.”

Magda erupted into tears. “That was my mother’s name. My mother, Channa, and Stefan’s mother, Shoshana, aleichem hashalom. Gottenu, I hadn’t thought about …” Again, the flood of tears. “Our other granddaughter was named after their side, so this be the first name for my mother.” She hugged her husband. “They’d be so proud, nu, Stefan.”