Mae Nunn - Texas Miracle

“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.

CHAPTER NINE

NEMESIS PURRED IN her lap as Jacqueline read and highlighted pertinent sections of the Texas tax code. Sixteen people had brought bundles of tax information by the office that day and she wanted to have them in order for Mac to begin processing when he returned to work, which she presumed would be Wednesday. Wearing her midnight blue velvet-fleece robe that tied at the waist with a rope tassel, she lounged on her couch across from the lit fireplace. She was fresh from the shower, hair wet and falling forward, tickling Nemesis’s ears when she bent her head a certain way. The kitten alternated between batting it and fussing over her robe’s tassel. Jacqueline’s long legs stretched the length of the couch and she wore slippers to keep her feet toasty.

The phone on the table beside the pecans flashed on. She had turned the ringer off, but had kept the phone in her vision all evening in case Mac called.

“Hello?”

“Hey there. I hope it’s not too late to call.” His voice was as smooth as a chocolate truffle. But he sounded tired. It was ten o’clock.

“Well, I do have this mean boss who makes me get up early.”

Mac chuckled. “That’s not what I heard. I heard you were running the place.”

“Ha! Right.”

“I guess you can make up your own hours tomorrow.”

Jacqueline stroked the kitten’s fur. “Nemesis and I were just thinking about you.”

“Nemesis? And what were you and Nemesis thinking?”

“We were wondering if you were in the vicinity.”

“I’m actually on the road back from Tyler.”

“Hmm. I’m in my robe, but I would gladly put on my best sweats if you’d like to stop by for tea and sympathy.”

He didn’t hesitate. “I’d love some sympathy.”

Jacqueline’s heart warmed toward him even more. “Rough day?”

“Not near as rough for me as Joiner and Stella. But yeah. I’m beat.”

“You don’t have to stop by—”

“It’s too late, you temptress. I’ve already exited. Put the kettle on.”

“Will do, boss.”

Jacqueline changed from her robe into gray sweats and a KARIS T-shirt. The kettle was just beginning to whistle when Mac’s headlights shone in the driveway. She flipped on the front porch light, as well as the light above the side door, where he knocked.

“Come on in!”

He opened the door and stepped inside.

He removed his hat and coat. “You want me to take off my boots, too?” He motioned to a metal boot rack where she kept her rain boots and a pair of running shoes.

“Suit yourself,” she said. “It’s kind of ‘anything goes’ around this house.” Jacqueline took his coat and hung it on a hook. He set his hat on the table with the lamp and followed her, bootless, into the kitchen.

“Don’t bother sitting on the doll furniture.” Jacqueline grinned. “Just let me get the tea and we’ll go into the living room.”

Mac went ahead of her and warmed himself by the fire. A few minutes later, she followed him, shuffling along in her slippers. She set a wooden tray on the coffee table. It held two mugs, a thermal carafe of water and an assortment of teas. There was also a salad plate with oatmeal cookies. “I made these tonight. My grandma’s recipe.”