Texas Miracle

Hunt: Me, too.

Mac: Ditto.

He prayed while he packed up his desk quickly, putting anything urgent into his briefcase. Then, grabbing his MacBook Pro and his keys, he headed for the front desk.

“Is something wrong?” Jacqueline, startled, looked up from her computer. There was fear in her eyes.

“Stella is in the hospital. She had some weird pains over the weekend and they came back today, along with dizziness. The doctor had them go to Labor and Delivery.”

Jacqueline raised her hand to her mouth. “Oh, no! How far along is she?”

“Thirty-two weeks.”

“Oh, Mac, I hope everything will be okay. What can I do for you—and them?”

“Joiner asked us to pray so you can do that. I can’t stay here, though. I need to go and be with them.”

“Yes, go. I can take care of the office.”

“Thank you, Jacqueline.” He stared at her for a long moment, warmth washing over him. “I am so glad you are here.”

She smiled and then rose from her chair, coming around the counter to where he was putting on his coat. Taking him by complete and sweet surprise, she pulled him into her arms. She hugged him tightly around the waist. He smelled jasmine in her hair, which felt like satin against his cheek. For a moment, he closed his eyes and breathed in the comfort of her affection. Then he raised his hand to her face, touching it gently, and whispered, “Thanks,” before going out the door.

He reached Tyler Memorial in record time. Finding the Labor and Delivery area quickly, he parked his truck and ran up the stairs two at a time to the third floor. “Stella Temple?” he inquired at the front desk, and a nurse showed him to observation room number two.

Joiner sat beside Stella, who was lying on a gurney hooked up to several machines. She opened her eyes lazily and greeted Mac. “He needs some lunch.” She motioned at Joiner, her speech a drunken slur. “And Pops.” Then she dozed back off. Joiner, whose face was drawn with worry, broke into a smile at this and released her hand, rising out of his chair to embrace Mac.

“Hey, buddy.” Mac squeezed him hard.

“Thanks for coming. You sure got here fast.”

“Where’s Buster?”

“Gone to the bathroom.” Joiner sat back down beside the gurney, taking Stella’s hand again. Mac sat down in the seat beside him.

“What’s going on?”

“They’ve ruled out the gallbladder. Now they’re saying it could be reflux or possibly something to do with her liver.”

“And the baby?”

Joiner pointed to a screen hooked to one of the monitors. “That’s her. See the heartbeat and oxygen levels? Everything’s great right now. No problems.”

“That’s good news.”

“Yeah. We were really worried when we got here.” Joiner sighed. “It’s a big relief that the baby is fine. But we’ve got to get this pain figured out with Stella.”

“Looks like she’s feeling pretty good right now.” Mac smiled wickedly, nodding at the snoring Stella.

Joiner kissed her hand. “They’ve got her doped up pretty strong. She was in terrible pain when we got here.”

“Poor thing.” Mac smoothed Stella’s hair.

Buster appeared in the doorway with a cup of coffee for himself and Joiner. “Hey there, Mac. You want a cup? It’s right around the corner.” The older man’s overalls were worn in the knees and his boots caked with mud.

“No, thanks, Buster. But I’ve had instructions to go get you men a bite to eat.”

“Stella?” He looked lovingly at his daughter.

“Yes. She doesn’t want you going hungry. Woke up just long enough to give me orders.”

“Ha, ha. That sounds like ’er.”

Stella opened her eyes and stuck out her tongue at them, then recommenced snoring.

“What are you in the mood for, Joiner? Buster? I’ll go pick something up.”

* * *

MAC RETURNED WITH two sandwiches and jalapeno-flavored potato chips, along with lemonades. Joiner and Buster devoured their food like starving men. Buster looked up at Mac between bites and explained, “We eat breakfast early on the ranch.”

Mac took the chair opposite them and waited. It seemed as if the room had a revolving door of nurses, phlebotomists, ultrasound technicians and doctors. Cullen and Hunt arrived just in time after Cullen’s afternoon class to hear the news: blood work confirmed that Stella had HELLP syndrome, a form of preeclampsia. She would need to deliver the baby early. In fact, she’d be admitted, moved to a room and prepped to induce labor—the baby would be born the following morning.

While Joiner and Stella asked the doctor questions, the brothers got on their phones and let wives and families know. Mac called Alma, who, in excited Spanglish, instructed him to text her a list of things Joiner and Stella needed so she could go to their house to pack a bag for them. Then he called Jacqueline.

“What are you going to do?” she asked.

“I think I’ll stay here all evening and then come home, but I’ll need to come back in the morning. I want to be here when the baby is born.”

“Sure. Of course.”

She seemed to understand all he wasn’t saying. “Would you like to have the day off?”

“I’ll do whatever you need me to do, Mac. We’ve had several people bring in their tax stuff today and I imagine it could be that way all week. I kind of hate to close the office.”

Mac smiled. She hated to close the office.

“But I understand if you want me to. I mean, if you want it closed without you here.”

“You are spoiling me, Jacqueline. Not closing never would have been an option before. But your skills have rendered my presence a lot less valuable.”

She snorted. “Not less valuable. Just a little less required.”

He grinned. “Well, thanks a lot. I think.”

She laughed, that musical sound again.

“Don’t work too hard,” he said.

“Keep me posted when you can.” Her voice turned tender with concern.

“I will.” As Mac hung up the phone he felt warm, content. It was nice to have someone to call, to share his news.

* * *

THE ROOM STELLA moved to was sumptuous by regular hospital standards. It seemed pains were taken to make Labor and Delivery friendlier, more comfortable. “It’s the happiest wing of the hospital!” a chipper Certified Nursing Assistant sang out as he brought in extra chairs to accommodate the family. The expression on Joiner’s face, however, was not happy.

“Superman,” as the brothers had dubbed him since the movie Man of Steel featured Joiner’s look-alike in the role, was drawn up as tight as a bowstring. When Gillian and Sarah arrived, the brothers suggested they take him and Buster out for a bite to eat. But Buster, assessing the situation, said, “Joiner, you go on and get outside for a minute. You’ve got a long night ahead of you. I’ll stay here till you get back, then I’m going home to my own bed. I’ll tend the animals and be back in the morning.”

Stella nodded. “I’ll be out of it in a few minutes, anyway. They just gave me another dose of pain medicine. Go eat. Get out of here.” She shooed him with her IV-laden hands, smiling bravely.

“We’ll be here, too,” Sarah said.

Finally, Joiner agreed. “I guess I’ll go since Mac’s buying.” He managed a grin in Mac’s direction.

They piled in Mac’s truck, which had front and backseats, and he drove just a few blocks away to a steak house. Although he was the most conservative spender of his brothers, he also believed there was a time for extravagant gestures, and he ordered a blooming onion, Aussie fries and beers with limes for everyone. He watched as Joiner’s shoulders visibly relaxed.

“So tell us everything,” Hunt implored Joiner.

“Everything went fast there at the end, didn’t it, Mac?” Joiner began. “All day they’ve run tests, thinking it could be gallbladder, acid reflux, different stuff. But that last blood work came back with wacky liver enzymes and I guess that’s when they knew it was this HELLP syndrome.” Joiner rubbed his eyes. “You heard what the doctor said. The only way to stop it is to get the baby out.”

“I didn’t hear everything you asked him, though,” Cullen said. “Did you ask something about the timing? Like why the baby has to come now?”

“I did. You know the baby looked good all day on the monitor. So Stella and I were both wondering if she could stay in there awhile longer, you know, like maybe two more weeks, if they could just control Stella’s pain.”

“Yeah, makes sense.” Hunt said. “Give those lungs a little longer to develop.”

“That’s exactly what we were thinking,” said Joiner. “But the doctor said absolutely not. He said if they didn’t take the baby out, both she and Stella would be dead in two weeks.”

“That’s terrifying!” Cullen’s eyes were as big as Texas.

Joiner nodded gravely.

Mac adjusted his glasses with shaking hands. “I’m just thankful you brought her when you did, and they caught everything quickly. From what I heard, the prognosis sounds very hopeful.”

“Yes. Yes it does.” Joiner nodded. “Dr. Laws seems to think babies are pretty safe to be born after twenty-eight weeks and we are in the thirty-second.”

“That’s great,” said Hunt.

“It’s not ideal.” Joiner squeezed his hands into fists. “But probably—surely—everything will be okay.”

Mac patted Joiner on the back. “I believe it will. Stella is a strong woman.”

Joiner sighed. “It’s not how we planned it, but I have to trust God has a plan.”

They ate their steaks in relative silence compared with the usual brotherhood meetings back in Kilgore. It seemed there was everything and nothing to say. The gravity of the situation—its danger as well as its potential joy—hung in the air around their table.

Joiner didn’t hurry them, but Mac knew he wanted to get back to the hospital. He tried to pay the bill in secret. Mac saw and stopped him. “This one’s on me. It’s not every day a guy becomes an uncle.”

* * *

THEY ALL HUNG out in Stella’s room for a few hours after Buster left. Alma and her husband, Felix, arrived with a bag of clothes and toiletries for Joiner and Stella, along with hot sopaipillas and honey. Thirty minutes or so after they left, Hunt and Cullen drove back to Kilgore with their wives. Mac stayed till bedtime.

“I’ll see you in the morning. Try to get some rest.” He kissed Stella on the cheek.

She squeezed his hand. “Thanks for taking care of us.”

“Love you, girl,” Mac said.

“Love you back.”

As he and Joiner walked toward the door, his brother said, “The plan is to start Pitocin about seven o’clock.”

“I’ll be here at eight—that good?”

“How will you manage that with work?”

“It’s already managed. New assistant, Jacqueline, remember?”

“That’s good.” Joiner hugged him hard. “Thanks for everything.”

On the way home, Mac decided to call Jacqueline, not because he had any new news to report or even because he was curious about what might have happened at the office. He wouldn’t admit this to her, and most certainly not to himself, but he decided to call simply because he wanted to hear the sound of her voice.

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