Thanks to Kyrie for editing this! :)
Secret Spaces of the Gods
Chapter 2
"Oh my god," Trixie moaned before she could stop herself. Katy continued to cry, and Trixie pulled herself somewhat together with tremendous effort. "Katy, listen to me, angel. It's okay. Everything is going to be okay." Please God, let this be true!
Out of the corner of her eye she saw the older woman rise and go into the aisle, gesturing wildly. In a moment, one of the attendants approached them.
"Is there a problem?" he inquired.
Trixie glanced up and nodded in reply before turning her attention back to the phone. "I'm right here, Katy. I need to talk to this man, but I'm not going anywhere. Okay?" She covered the mouthpiece and began whispering her situation urgently, explaining the need for an ambulance. She was gratified by the attendant's immediate grasp of the situation and the way he swung into immediate, reassuring action, taking the wallet she hastily thrust into his hand so that he would have her address.
"Is there anything I can do?" Trixie's seatmate asked, her voice low and sympathetic
Trixie's mind was spinning. "Another cell phone," she quickly muttered before speaking to Katy again. The little girl had stopped crying, but Trixie could still hear the occasional hiccup. She tried to ignore the way her stomach was clenching and focus on comforting the little girl.
"Sweetie, in a few minutes an ambulance is going to come and take Daddy to the hospital where they're going to take good care of him and make him all well." Trixie paused for a moment as the tears welling in her eyes spilled down her cheeks. It occurred to her that she didn't know if he would be "all well" at all. She began to shake uncontrollably.
"Here." The woman was back. She breathlessly shoved the borrowed phone at Trixie and sank back into her seat.
Trixie flipped it open and punched in a familiar number, silently cursing her fumbling fingers. She almost screamed when she had to start over. Please be there! she thought as she redialed, this time successfully. She murmured more comforting words into her own cell phone until a familiar voice answered the other one.
"Moms!" Despite her best efforts, the word came out as a sob. She hoped Katy didn't hear her.
"Trixie! What is it?" her mother answered, responding to Trixie's agitated tone.
Trixie quickly explained what was going on, in between reassuring Katy that everything would be all right. "Please go get Katy, Moms," she finished, choking back a sob. She wished with all her heart that Scotty was a real person and could beam her home. It was tearing her apart knowing that she was still hours away from Jim and Katy.
"Of course, baby," her mother said instantly.
Trixie closed her eyes as her mother added, "Everything will be okay, Trixie. Everything's going to be just fine." That's what she kept telling Katy, too, but she didn't really know that at all. Why, why, why did she ever make this damn trip?
***
By the time Trixie dashed into the ICU at Sleepyside Hospital several hours later, she was strangely numb and having difficulty concentrating. Shock, her eldest brother Brian, who was a doctor, would no doubt call it.
Dan, who had picked her up at the Sleepyside station, spoke to the nurse on duty while Trixie looked wildly around, finally spotting Jim's adopted parents and his sister, Honey. They rushed over to her.
"He's still unconscious, but he's holding his own," Matthew Wheeler said, putting his arm around her.
Madeleine Wheeler's formerly perfect make-up clearly showed the sign of tears, but she echoed her husband's positive statement, kissing Trixie's cheek.
Trixie looked at Honey, knowing that the real truth of the situation would be found there. She flinched at the flicker of fear she saw in Honey's face. "What's going on? Why is this happening?" she asked, twisting her hands. Pain flared in her back, but she managed to ignore it, as she had done most of the day. It was insignificant next to what was happening to Jim.
"Oh Trixie, they're not sure yet! The doctors seem to think he has some kind of infection."
Dan joined the group. "The doctor is on her way out to talk to you, Trix. The nurse didn't have any information for me."
Trixie barely heard, gaping at her sister-in-law. "An infection? Why would something like that cause him to be unconscious?" Her hard-earned calm slipped a little as she struggled to understand the situation.
"I can answer that," a voice said. They turned to see a serious-faced woman in a white coat, 'Dr. Elizabeth Brandt' on the I.D. badge clipped to the pocket. "Are you Mrs. Frayne?" she asked. At Trixie's confirming nod, she continued. "I'm afraid it's more serious than we initially thought. We suspect your husband may be suffering from endocarditis, which is an infection of the lining of the heart."
At the word 'heart', Trixie gasped and fought a sudden swell of nausea. "An infection in his heart?" she repeated. Out of the corner of her eye she saw her mother-in-law turn very white and clutch her husband's arm.
The doctor nodded. "Yes. It's very rare to find a case like this in somebody so young. And, under all other circumstances, perfectly healthy."
Trixie was shaking her head. "But how? How did this happen?"
"It starts with a simple infection, most commonly after a dental procedure but also from procedures involving the gastrointestinal or urinary tract."
Trixie suddenly remembered something. "As a matter of fact, Jim did go to the dentist a few weeks ago." She looked at the doctor in confusion. "But doctor, it's not like Jim's never been to the dentist before."
Dr. Brandt seemed to notice Trixie's condition for the first time. "Let's sit down," she suggested, pointing to some chairs.
They all sat down and waited for what the doctor had to say. Trixie appreciated her calm and caring manner—it reminded her of Brian and gave her a small measure of comfort.
"What our preliminary tests have indicated is that Jim has a small hole in his heart, and people who have a predisposing abnormality of their heart are vulnerable to this illness. But we need to do more blood cultures to be sure. Generally we take three to five in a 24-hour period to confirm the diagnosis. In the meantime, we're giving him some general antibiotics."
"This is crap!" Dan burst out. He stared at the doctor, unaware that a look of cold menace was filling his features. Somehow, it was easier to be angry at this person sitting here telling him his good friend was sick than acknowledge the helpless fear he was feeling.
Apparently, the doctor was used to emotions running high in these kinds of situations and didn't take it personally, merely turning towards him and acknowledging his statement with a slight tilt of her head.
"I mean, this is ridiculous! Jim with a heart problem?" Dan continued, his voice sharp.
Honey was nodding in agreement. "My brother's the most active person I've ever known. He rides horses, swims, hikes in the woods..."
Trixie's head was swimming. "He never gets sick; he's never had any kind of medical problems," she added when Honey paused for breath. She felt the beginnings of panic start to loom and ruthlessly pushed it down. It wasn't until this moment that she realized how she'd always taken Jim's well-being for granted. He got huge amounts of exercise, both working with the kids at the school and in his personal life, preferring physical activities to more sedentary amusements. And other than the occasional burger from Wimpy's, he had no vices.
Trixie would rub her hand appreciatively over his hard stomach and tell him how unfair it was that he never gained any weight, enjoying the way that his muscles there would jump when she replaced her hand with her mouth, brushing a sensuous kiss just under his naval...
Dr. Brandt took her hand and gave it a quick squeeze before releasing it. "It isn't uncommon for a hole to be so small that it isn't detected. There are no symptoms, and people afflicted with this condition don't have any significant long-term problems. If this infection never occurred, it’s highly likely that it never would have been discovered at all."
Matthew frowned. "So what you're saying is, this could have happened at any time?" His wife began to cry quietly, and he automatically put an arm around her without taking his eyes off of the doctor.
The doctor nodded. "I'm afraid so."
Trixie couldn't take anymore. "I want to see him." She began to struggle to her feet. If she heard the words 'heart', 'infection' or 'serious' one more time she would start screaming and never stop.
"I'm afraid he is still unconscious, but we’re not sure why,” she admitted. The doctor frowned, and Trixie was suddenly, horribly aware of just how serious this really was.
"I don't care. Please take me to him," she whispered. She let Dan and Honey help her to her feet and automatically pressed her cheek into Dan's shoulder when Dan put a comforting arm around her. The gesture was completely automatic, and she bit her lip and pulled her head back, wanting Jim so desperately that she almost cried out. The baby within her moved restlessly, and she felt a sharp pain in her lower back.
"Are you all right?" Honey asked, hearing Trixie's small exclamation of pain.
"It's nothing," Trixie said. She tried to smile at her best friend. "My back's been killing me all day. I'll be so glad when this baby is born."
She followed the doctor, leaving her in-laws and friends behind to do the only thing they could do: wait.
***
Trixie entered the small room and couldn't stop the small moan that emerged from her throat when she saw Jim lying there, so still and pale, tubes in his nose, hooked up to machines that recorded his every life sign. There was an IV bag attached to Jim’s left arm, the antibiotics dripping into him in clear, steady drops.
"If there are any problems, or if you have any questions, please ring for a nurse and have her page me," the doctor said before slipping out of the room.
Trixie nudged a nearby chair closer to the bed and sank into it. She took hold of Jim's hand and lifted it to her lips before twining her fingers through his. She touched his forehead with her other hand; it was hot and dry. "Jim, it's Trixie. I'm right here, baby." She brushed her fingers through his hair and leaned forward, hoping that by force of will she could get him to open his eyes and look at her. Tell her everything was going to be fine.
Jim breathed in and out slowly. Too slowly. She let the tears that had pooled in her eyes slide down her cheeks. "Jim, please wake up and talk to me. Please."
Nothing.
Trixie tried to ease the aching in her back by leaning into the back of the chair, squirming to find just the right position. She continued to hold Jim's hand, taking deep breaths until the sobs she felt building inside her subsided. How she wished Jim would open his eyes and call her 'shamus'.
She wasn't sure how long she had been sitting there before she heard somebody quietly enter the room. To her great joy, it was her father and Brian.
"Don't get up. We got here as soon as we could. I was in a meeting in the city and just got the message," Peter Belden said, leaning down and kissing Trixie on the forehead. He was absolutely furious with the temp secretary for not trying harder to get his wife's message to him. “I picked up Brian, and here we are.”
"How are you holding up, sis?" Brian asked, hugging her head into his side for a moment.
Trixie just shook her head, not sure how to answer the question. "Have you talked to Dr. Brandt?" she asked her brother, who nodded. "Is he going to be okay? I...I need to know. I need to know the truth, Brian."
Brian looked down at his sister, not happy at all with the paleness suffusing her normally rosy face. "He's young; he's strong; and he's healthy," he began, his voice careful.
Trixie felt a sudden bolt of anger. "You call this healthy?" she hissed, indicating Jim with a wave of her free hand.
Brian took the other chair. "I just meant that he has a strong constitution and should be able to fight this thing." His voice was gentle, and Trixie was ashamed at her outburst.
Trixie's face worked for a moment before she was able to get herself under control. "Then why won't he wake up?" she almost sobbed.
Brian took the hand that wasn't holding Jim's. "Trix, it's taking all of his energy to fight off the infection right now. It's not necessarily a bad thing." He didn't add that it wasn’t a good sign that the infection obviously required this kind of fight. His goal was to reassure, not frighten.
Trixie took a deep breath and nodded.
Her father, who had been silently listening, spoke up. "Sweetheart, they only allow one visitor at a time, so we're going back out to the waiting room. You come get us if you need anything. And I mean anything. Okay?" He leaned down and hugged her for a long time, saying softly, "I love you, my daughter."
Trixie pressed into her father, breathing in the comforting scent she remembered so well from her childhood. She remembered a time when nobody could comfort her as well as her father could and felt a wave of love fill her. "I love you too, Daddy."
They left the room, leaving Trixie with the constant whirs and occasional beeps of the monitoring equipment. Her thoughts turned black. If Jim…if Jim died...but no. Trixie refused to even entertain the thought and with her sheer will pushed it away. "You're going to be okay," she said to Jim's unconscious form. She again lifted his hand and reverently kissed his palm before holding it against her damp cheek. "You come back to me. Do you hear me Jim Frayne? Because I'm going to be really pissed if you don't. And you do not want that to happen!"
She sat there quietly, his hand so still against her face instead of curving into her hair, no thumb wiping under her eyes, no voice telling her not to cry, telling her that he loved her. She began to cry, silently and hopelessly. This wasn't a case she could figure out. There wasn't anything she could do. Or say. Or even think. She could do nothing but sit there and watch the only man she had ever loved fight for his life.
Actually, there was one thing she could do.
She closed her eyes and began to pray. She didn't bother with bargains or threats or pleas. She kept her prayer simple, begging God to please watch over him and give him the strength he needed. She repeated it over and over, her lips moving silently. Afterwards, she felt a little bit better. She opened her eyes and took a long, deep breath.
"Oh baby, I love you so much. So much," she murmured, staring down at Jim and smiling slightly when the baby began to kick. She moved his hand until it was flush against the hard curve of her stomach, and she waited until she could localize where the movement was coming from. The kicking came again, hard.
"Feel that?" she whispered, pressing his hand against her. "Feel that?"
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