Trial By Fire

Ali was mystified. Surely Athena wasn’t thinking about having an abortion.

“You’re married,” Ali said quietly. “You and Chris love each other. You tell him you’re pregnant, and the two of you deal with it together. What’s so hard about that?”

“My father never wanted me to join the military,” Athena said.

This seemed like changing the subject, but Ali suspected it wasn’t. “So?”

“And when I got hurt, he said I’d wrecked his chances of being a grandfather. That since I was a cripple, even if I had a baby, how would I take care of one with this?”

Athena held up her prosthetic arm and hand and stared at them as though she’d never seen them before. Ali understood that there must be a lot more to the story than what she’d heard so far. For one thing, Athena’s parents hadn’t come to the wedding. As far as Ali knew they had been invited but had declined to attend.

“Your father called you that?” Ali asked. “A cripple? Sounds like he doesn’t know you very well. It sounds to me as though he’s the one who’s decided to take a pass on the grandfather bit.”

“What if he’s right?” Athena murmured. “Maybe I am a cripple. How do I hold a baby with this? How do I change one?”

“Wait a minute,” Ali said. “You’re tough enough to go to war in Iraq, tough enough to almost die from an IED, tough enough to live through Walter Reed and do all the rehab, and you’re tough enough to spend all day, every day teaching high school kids. You expect me to believe that you’re scared of changing a baby?”

“Not just changing it,” Athena said. “Feeding it, bathing it. I just keep thinking of all the things mothers do-all the things mothers have to do. What if I can’t do them? What if my child grows up thinking his mother’s a freak?”

“But you are a freak,” Ali said with a reassuring smile. “You play basketball, and you’re evidently very good at it, even one-handed.”

“That’s not what I mean,” Athena said.

“Kids always think their parents are freaks,” Ali said. “For instance, Chris thought I was a freak because I was on TV. As far as he knew, none of the other mothers did that.”

Athena, staring at her untouched hamburger, said nothing.

“Is this why you called off the trip to Mi

“Yes,” Athena said. “I told Chris I’m not ready to deal with my parents yet, and it’s true. I’m not.”

“Look,” Ali said. “I get it that you don’t have perfect parents. Nobody has perfect parents, but I can tell you from personal experience that throwing a grandchild into the mix can help resolve a lot of old, lingering problems. Look what happened with me and Chris’s other grandparents at the wedding. As I recall, you’re the one who made that happen.”

“Yes, but…”

“But what?”

“Those were Chris’s relatives, not mine, so it wasn’t as big a deal for me. My parents are a big deal. Besides, what if they’re right, and I’m not cut out to be a mother?”

“Because of your missing hand and leg,” Ali asked, “or is it for some other reason that you’re not mentioning?”

Again Athena said nothing. For almost a minute she and Ali sat in silence at the table while their untouched hamburgers turned stone cold.

“Look,” Ali said finally. “I can tell you there hasn’t ever been a woman who found out she was pregnant who didn’t worry about being up to the task, but Athena, I happen to know you are. You and Chris together will be great parents. If he somehow thinks he’s got a pass from changing poopy diapers, then I’ll be happy to set him straight. And if I can’t make a believer of him, my parents will.”

“You think it will be all right then?” Athena asked uncertainly.

“It’ll be more than all right,” Ali said. “It’s going to be wonderful. Yes, I know bringing home a new little baby and having its health and well-being entirely on your shoulders is scary. Tiny babies and grown ones, too, require a lot of care, but you’ll grow into the job as the baby grows. So will Chris.”

“Even with this?” Again, Athena held up her prosthetic hand.

Ali had always been impressed by Athena’s determination to never let her missing limbs keep her from doing anything she wanted to do. Yet the daunting prospect of caring for a baby seemed to be more than she could handle. Ali was touched that Athena had come to her looking for reassurance.

“Until the baby is born,” Ali went on, “yours is the voice that child will hear and know-your heartbeat, your breathing. Kids are adaptable. They love the people who love them. They love what’s familiar. Someday this child may notice that other kids’ mothers have two arms, but as far as this little kid is concerned-as far as your little kid is concerned-mothers with two arms will be the odd ones out.”

“So you think I should call Chris?” Athena asked.

“Over the telephone? Of course not. You don’t have classes in the morning, and if you leave now, you can be home in two hours. Go home and tell Chris this wonderful news. Celebrate this miracle in person and together.”

“You’re sure?” Athena asked.

Ali laughed aloud. “Yes, I’m sure. And once Chris knows, you’d better be sure everyone else knows as well-my parents; Chris’s other grandparents; your grandmother; and, yes, your parents, too. Uncancel that airline cancellation, Athena,” Ali advised. “Go to Mi

For the first time, Athena smiled. “I doubt that,” she said.

“Try it,” Ali said. “He might just surprise you.”

CHAPTER 12

Upon returning to the hotel, Ali fell into bed. The idea of being a grandmother thrilled her. The only thing that saddened her was that Dean hadn’t lived to see the arrival of this new person and to watch him or her grow into adulthood.

Ali was glad it was far too late to call her parents. Otherwise she might have been tempted, but this was Chris and Athena’s news to deliver, and they were the ones who needed to do the telling.

Ali fell asleep almost instantly. When she woke up at six-thirty the next morning, she bounded out of bed with a happy heart. Yes, she had to go to the hospital, where people were dealing with life-and-death matters, but for right now, Ali’s cup was brimming.

Not so her suitcase. The other clothing Leland had packed for her was more formal than the jogging suit, and she knew it wouldn’t blend into the burn-unit waiting room background. Instead, Ali did a rerun of the pink jogging suit, topped off with her wig. Once dressed, she hurried down to the lobby to grab a cup of coffee. The temperature outside at this hour was surprisingly pleasant-cool enough that she decided to leave the car where it was and walk to the hospital.

On the eighth floor, Ali found the waiting room area relatively quiet, and there were only two people in the waiting room. James’s father was dozing in a chair. That most likely meant that his former wife was in the room with their son. The only other occupant was one of the teenagers, who had moved from the middle of the room to one of the chairs, which were now back in their original positions.

There was an attendant at the nurses’ station. “Is Sister Anselm here?” Ali asked.

“Yes,” the woman said, “but she’s currently unavailable. If you’ll take a seat…”

Ali did so. A few moments later the teenager rose to his feet, yawned, and stretched his lanky frame. “Is that lady in room eight fourteen a friend of yours?” he asked.

The kid was lean and tough and looked to be seventeen or eighteen years old. If Ali had met him on a dark street, she might have been worried, but since he had clearly spent the whole night in the waiting room, she couldn’t help being impressed by his apparent loyalty to his injured friend.

“Sort of,” Ali replied. “I know her.”