Free Jubilee's Journey (The Wyattsville Series) by Bette Lee Crosby

for his life?” Not only did she refuse to consider the idea, she also refused the sedative they offered. At that point there was little anyone could do other than sit beside Carmella and comfort her.
    After what she could have sworn was a week of waiting, Doctor Kellerman walked into the waiting room looking worn and weary. He sat on the sofa alongside Carmella.
    “Your husband’s out of surgery and doing as well as can be expected.”
    “As well as can be expected?” Carmella repeated. Her left eye blinked furiously, and a look of panic grabbed hold of her face.
    “There was quite a bit of damage,” Doctor Kellerman said. “One of the shots went clear through Sidney’s upper left lung. The other hit his colon and stomach. There was a lot of trauma and swelling, but I expect…”
    Threaded throughout the words he spoke was the sound of Carmella’s sobbing. “Dear God,” she repeated over and over.
    “Sidney will be out of the recovery room in two or three hours,” Kellerman said. “You’ll be able to spend a few minutes with him once he’s settled in intensive care.” At that point Carmella no longer acknowledged his words; she just sat there praying for divine intervention. After he’d told all he could tell, Kellerman sat there for several minutes saying nothing but nervously rubbing his hands together as Carmella rattled off three Hail Marys.
     

     
    It was almost ten o’clock that evening before Carmella was ushered into Sidney’s room. In a husky whisper the nurse informed her that it would be best if she didn’t stay more than ten minutes. “Right now what your husband needs is rest,” she explained.
    Carmella knew better. After thirty years of marriage, she knew what Sidney needed was her by his side. She quietly slipped to the far side of the room and sat in the darkest corner, the corner behind the ventilator. She remained there for a long while listening to the machine whoosh air into her husband’s injured lung. At first she counted the breaths, wondering how many it would take before Sidney again opened his eyes. And when she lost count of the breaths she counted heartbeats as they bleeped across the monitor. In between the heartbeats and breaths she prayed, sometimes silently, sometimes in a whisper so small only an angel hovering overhead could have heard.
     

     
    No one noticed Carmella was there until well after midnight; then she was told to leave. “I know my Sidney,” she argued feebly. “He’d want me here.”
    When the nurse flatly stated, “Rules are rules,” Carmella leaned over and kissed Sidney’s cheek. “I’ll be back first thing in the morning,” she said. Then she turned and walked down the long hallway that led to a bank of elevators. Tears rolled down her face, and the sound of her own heartbeat thundered in her ears.
    Although Carmella, a woman who insisted she grew faint if she skipped a meal, hadn’t eaten all day she had wanted to stay. At least until Sidney opened his eyes.
     

     
    Blinded by concern for her husband, Carmella walked past the room two doors down, the room where a uniformed policeman stood guard at the door. She left for home not knowing that inside that room was a teenage boy with a shaved head swaddled in bandages. The same sounds of breath and heartbeats could be heard in the boy’s room, but nobody cried. Nobody prayed. The policeman standing outside the door yawned and checked his watch. Four more hours ‘til my shift is over, he thought.
     

 
    The Next Day
     
    A half-hour before the early morning news started, Olivia was fully dressed. By five-forty-five she’d downed three large cups of coffee. She sat on the sofa and snapped the television on. The test pattern flickered across the screen. For what seemed like a very long minute, she waited. Her right leg crossed over the left, and her right foot jiggled up and down. Three times she moved, crossing and uncrossing her legs, scooting an inch to the right and then to the